Descent
by Dgray3994
Summary: #Warning# Rayna Styne is a hunter in her own right, but when she comes up against a nest of vampires, she may have gotten in over her head, especially when she calls on the Winchesters for help. This begins her descent into madness, something she needs to figure out before it overtakes her and she can't escape. The problem is, she's not sure where it started to figure out it's end.
1. Chapter 1

Descent

The haze around my line of sight was probably normal for the amount of blood that I had lost, but then again, I wasn't exactly thinking about that at the moment, I was thinking that I was fucking cold and tired and all I wanted to do was sleep. NOT a good thing.

The motel door was heavier than I remembered but so were my feet, and when I finally got it open, it took all I had to get in and close it behind me. Leaning against the wooden frame, I dropped the bag that managed to somehow stay on my shoulder for the trip in but the instant it hit the floor, the bloodied machete clanged against the chair leg. It shouldn't be that loud right?

"Ugh, fuck me, this is not good."

My eyes rolled as the room tilted a bit but I managed to stay on my feet until I got to the edge of the bed, one that I nearly missed as I sat down on it, rolled onto the side that I was putting the most pressure on and felt the light around me fading. It was mid-day, it shouldn't have been that dark in there, blood loss will do that to you.

With a shuddered breath in, fighting against what I thought might be broken or at least fractured and bruised ribs, I tugged the phone from my pocket and searched around for the last contact I had made. It was three days ago, and it wasn't even a real contact, it was more of a missed call. One of them checking in on me, always checking in on me but I didn't care, it made it easier to find him and with an exhale I pressed the call button, and then the speaker to listen as it rang through.

"Rayna?" Sam Winchester's voice was the same as it had always been, deep, concerned but nothing that ever turned me on like it did at that moment. Crazy reaction to the blood loss maybe? "Rayna where have you been? I tried calling you three days ago."

"Sam," it came out like a needy whisper, a breathless sigh and I felt my eyes drift shut. "I need your help."

"Where are you? What's going on?" He questioned more and it all seemed mumbled but I knew that was just my body saying _Fuck you_ and wanting nothing more than to shut down.

"It's bad, Sam, really bad." I managed to reply but I knew I didn't have much longer. "Wichita, Kansas, Motor Lodge, room 312, Sam, I need you."

"Yeah, we're on our way," he replied, the tone of his voice was either really pissed off or really concerned, I couldn't tell but I knew one thing, Dean was probably packing his bags and grabbing the keys as the younger one spoke. "Don't go to sleep, Ray."

"Can't help it." I blinked furiously to keep the focus but it wasn't working, and pulled my legs up further into a fetal position on the bed. "Just hurry."

"Hey, Ray," Dean snapped over the phone, "you stay with us, we'll be there soon. You get me, you stay here."

"Yeah, Dean, I get it." I managed but that was it, the fight was over, the darkness was winning.

"Ray?" Sam's voice was powerful, but not enough for me to hold off. "Ray, can you hear me?"

And the last thing I heard before the endless darkness took over was Dean's rough tone, "Son of a Bitch!"

I don't know how long I was out for, didn't know what day it was, or even what time, but I blinked away the sedation, tried to fight through the heaviness and felt the chill run over my skin. I managed to clear my dry throat but that was when I heard the noises. The endless, steady beeping of monitors, almost made out the drip of the IV, but that was when the bright white light seared through my vision.

I know I moaned, how couldn't I, everything hurt, right down to my toenails and I slowly opened my eyes against the brightness. A woman pulled the penlight away from me and I was able to make out a silhouette before her features came into view.

"Who the hell are you?" I asked in a low, dry voice, not really caring but I know she wasn't someone I could have possibly met before.

"Doctor Reyes, and you are one lucky woman," she replied and moved towards the small computer that sat beside the bed. "Contusions over most of your body, three broken ribs, two bruised, cuts down your arms, and a large gash that required thirty-two stitches to your side. What exactly were you doing to get those Rayna?"

"Paddleball," I replied sarcastically, "nasty sport, the losers are real nutcases."

Well, I thought it was funny, but the doctor just gave me an exasperated expression before she stood. "Well, you're patched up as much as I can do for you. You needed a blood transfusion, lost most of that to before the boys found you. Why didn't you drive to the emergency room?"

"Have you seen my car?" I tried to grin, but it still came out as completely sarcastic, "people would have killed me and taken off with it before I made it to the door. It's a classic you know. Pristine condition."

"Ah-huh, well, you've been in here for about four days, nearly lost you twice and I think your boys have scared most of my staff away, so here's the plan. Get better and then get out." Her eyes narrowed at me, "Hunters in my hospital make for easy targets, I think we've had enough with the ones in the hall, now that you're awake, I don't really need any more trouble."

"Gotcha, Doc," I agreed and relaxed on the bed but that was when I smelled it, just the light scent of sulfur in the air before I turned, focusing on her eyes as they flashed black. "Christo."

She snapped back and stood from the bedside, snarling at me before she left the room. My vision managed to focus on the two that now entered the room. Sam Winchester, six-foot plus and all muscle moved in like a cat despite his size and the way that his unruly chestnut hair moved. His hazel eyes locked on me, running over all the bandages and I heard him sigh, stopping at the end of the bed.

Yep, he was pissed but it was the other one that made his way towards me that had me shifting. Dean was six-foot as well, thick everywhere, but solid and those bright green eyes were laced with fury, and concern as he stepped up beside the bed and leaned over, his fingers touching my cheek before he stared down at me, bright eyes connecting with mine.

"Scared us," he said softly but I knew what he meant, it was supposed to be a reprimand, but that didn't happen at all, he just sounded… scared. "A vamp nest, alone? What possessed you do to that?"

"Do most of my hunts alone, Dean, not anything new or unusual," I huffed as I tried to sit up, but the large hand on my shoulder had me flat against the bed. I took a deep breath, obeying the silent order and shifted my gaze to Sam. "Thanks for coming."

"You're lucky we did, you almost didn't make it to the hospital." Sam crossed his arms, shifted his weight and looked as if he could go on but he didn't. "We're going to have to get you out of here soon, like Reyes said, not a good place for hunters."

"Then why bring me?" I shrugged and glanced between the boys, "especially when you have a demon doctor working on me."

"This is a safe place, Reyes is one of the good ones." Sam tried to reason with me but I shook my head. I hated demons, with a passion and for personal reasons but he knew all about those and still let her even touch me. "We'll get you out and to the bunker. You can rest up there."

"Yeah, I guess," I mumbled and closed my eyes. So much for being well, I felt exhausted just from the small amount of time I had been talking to them. Sam was just too far away and I didn't like it. Granted, we had split on bad terms, the argument that sent me packing was one for the record books but still, too far away, and I did my best to lift my arm, stretch my fingers out for him and just as the blackness descended, I felt his large fingers wrap around mine, as Dean brushed his hand over my cheek.

A week… it had been a week since the hospital, a week of slow recovery and listening to the way things worked in the bunker. Dean would check in while I was awake, bring me breakfast, keep the coffee hot, make sure I didn't need anything before they disappeared on some small hunt or another. At the moment, they seemed to be searching for Cas, but Sam would only come in when I was sleeping, or stand outside the door to listen. Apparently we weren't over the argument, at least not in his eyes.

I had forgiven him weeks ago, but still there was something that he was hanging onto that wouldn't let him go and that in itself seemed to be festering under the surface. I was up and moving about the room, tired of lying there, tired of waiting and during a quiet night, one where Dean had passed out, or was deep in his music, and Sam was either in his room, eyes glued to his Game of Thrones marathon, I decided that it was time to explore.

Dressed in a pair of boy shorts and a tanktop, not to mention a thick pair of ankle socks that helped keep the cold concrete of the floor from hitting every nerve in my body, I wrapped a flannel around my shoulders and headed out. The shirt was Sam's, one he had left behind when he had watched over me one night, but I had kept it, tucked it under my pillow because it smelled just like him and I needed that comfort.

So, left or right? That seemed to be my only concern as I left the room but once I turned the corner, there was no question as to where I was going. Left took me past Dean's room and I was right, he was lying on his bed, arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed with the large, noise canceling earphones on, plugged into whatever player he happened to have with him, and I smiled before I slipped by.

Sam's room was down the hall and to the right, another corner I turned and from the sound coming from behind the door, it was more like a Harry Potter marathon that Games, but that itself made me smile as I continued on. His door was closed, locked shut and there was no way I was knocking on it.

The bathroom was just a little further down the hall and the majority of me thought that it would be fantastic to stand under a hot shower head for a little while, but the stitches on my side told me otherwise. It had been long enough, they could get wet, and I wasn't in the mood to argue with the part of my brain that was screaming at me. My mind was made up and I slowly moved in.

One side of the room was the glass-walled stand-up shower, the toilet right in the middle and as small counter with a sink took up the one directly across. A linen closet supplied me with several towels and some shampoo, probably the kind Sam hides from Dean on a regular basis but that was what I grabbed before turning on the spray.

The flannel rested on the closed cover of the toilet, the shorts and tank came next and slowly I started to peel away the tap, looking down at the new trophy I carried. Another new scare to share with friends I didn't have. I stood facing the mirror, my skin pale, the dark purple under my eyes was the only indication left that I had lost so much blood but the stitches were perfect and it wasn't as long as I remembered.

Licking my dry lips, trying to keep the memories out, I ran a hand over the skin around it, not touching the actual injury and sighed as I finally turned on the spray, letting it warm up before I stepped in.

God, something as simple as water should never feel so good.

I let it cascade over me, wash away the sins of the day, or week, whichever ran deeper and slowly washed my hair, taking in the scent of the man I ached for. We had never been together, Sam and I, there was just too much friction there to cross that line, but if I said I never thought about him, about his hands on my body, I would be lying, so as the soap ran from my body, I closed my eyes and let those thoughts take over.

Slipping my hands over my breasts, I could only imagine what his would feel like, kneading them gently before pinching the peaks of my nipples, something that got only a sigh from me since I had to remember they were just down the hall. With a wicked grin, I traveled lower and slipped between my thighs, rubbing the bundle of nerves there as I slowly built up every emotion that I needed to let go and when I did, when I finally careened over the edge, I let it out in a shuddered moan before placing my head against the cool, wet, tiled wall and felt the hot tears start to flow.

Yeah, I was strong, I hide everything well, but in that moment, I realized how close I had come to death, and mortality struck me. Every hunter knew that their end would come to them in some bloody fashion, but you just go with it when you live the life because if you stopped to think about it, if you really wanted to let it in, this was what you would get. A moment in time where you realize you're only human and death was inevitable.

I stood there for a long time, letting the spray hit my back before I calmed my nerves enough to move, and shut down the water. Taking the towel on the seat, I wrapped one around my hair and the other around my body, slowly drying off as I hummed to myself. I was caught in thought, not paying attention to the world around me, letting the noise of the music in my head take over, that was until the door swung open and I stood up straight, towel in hand but nothing covering me and met glares with the younger brother.

Sam looked me over, his jaw tight, expression full of hunger, but his eyes traveled down to the stitches and he shifted where he stood, one hand on the doorknob one hand on the frame.

"In or out," I barked and watched those hazel eyes darken.

"What?" It was as if I had slapped him when his gaze came back on me.

"In or out, you're letting all the hot air out by standing there with it open." I growled, not intentional but I was cold. Sam nodded, swallowed hard and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. He pressed himself against the wall, hands behind his back and I went back to drying off. "What's going on, Sam?"

"I," he stopped for a moment, "I went to check on you and you were gone."

"You mean you came into spy on me while I was sleeping," I grinned and dropped the towel, pulling the tank over my head before I looked up at him, seeing his eyes stare up at the ceiling. Smiling, I grabbed the shorts and slid them on before I removed the towel that held my hair and dropped them both in the hamper. "You can admit it, you know, I won't be mad."

"Okay," he nodded and brought that gaze to me, "I watch you sleep."

"Not creepy at all," I smirked as I moved towards the sink and hopped up on the counter, but he just exhaled, loudly. "I'm not saying it to piss you off."

"I'm not," he said quickly and pushed away from the wall. He came closer, nudged my legs apart with just the way he pressed against them, and stood there, my thighs touching his hips. Looking down at the injured side of my body, he reached out, taking the end of my shirt before he locked contact with those eyes. "I'm not pissed at you, I'm concerned and I didn't want to bring up what happened before while you were healing." I leaned back on my hands as he rolled the tank up, inspecting the stitch job before he reached over and slid a drawer open. He took out gauze and tape before shutting it again and standing straight to face me. I closed my eyes, letting his hands move over my skin and enjoying every minute of it, but it was when the back of his hand lightly brushed the side of my breast that peeked out from under the take that I moaned and he stepped back. "Ray?"

I opened my eyes just as quickly as he said my name, but the look on his face was a mix of confusion and lust and he swiftly stepped back. I jumped down, pushed past him and made a beeline for my room. I couldn't want him that much, not after what I had said to him and with a slam of my door, I closed my eyes and leaned back against it.

Moments passed, actual moments before there was a knock on it, maybe it wasn't his hand, maybe it was his head as he whispered my name.

"Go away, Sam." I muttered, clenching my fists at my side. "Please, just go away."

"Let me in, Ray," he pleaded.

"No," I sighed because letting him in would cause one of two things, falling in bed with him, or falling more in love with him than I already was, and pining for him for four years had already gotten me in enough trouble. "Just… go."

"Rayna," he took a deep breath, I could hear it so close to my door. "Listen to me, I'm not going to hurt you."

"I need to go, Sam, I need to just…" I moved from the door, grabbed whatever I could find, which was my clothes stashed in various dresser drawers and packed them in the duffle that sat by the bed. The lock on the door clicked and I turned quickly to look at him, his hands at his side, clenching and unclenching as he went his head down, eyes visible only under that curtain of unruly hair but his chest heaved with every breath. "Sam."

"I need you," he whispered, moving forwards, striding towards me as his hands were suddenly on me, one around my waist, the other tangled in my hair, pulling me towards him.

His kiss was demanding on my lips, but no matter how much I pushed at him, he wouldn't let me go, and I fought with him, pressing my hands against his chest as his tongue split my lips, driving deep between them, tasting and fighting for room in my mouth. I hummed against his, but brought my heel down on the top of his bare foot.

He growled in pain but let me go as I knocked my own forehead against his and made for the door, yanking it open before heading out into to the vast maze of the Men of Letters bunker. He knew it better than I did, so fumbling down the hallways only led me to one spot, the library. When I couldn't go anywhere else, when what stood between me and freedom was Sam's gigantic body, I felt my breath hitch.

I drew in as much as my bruised and broken ribs would let me but it wasn't enough to not feel the darkness threatening and I raised my hands as he stalked forwards. His eyes were angry, more so than I had ever seen them and I braced myself for anything he would throw at me, which in all honesty was a body that I wanted.

"Don't fight this," he demanded, stopping only an arm's length away, but I shook my head. "I want you, Ray, I love you."

"Don't say that!" I shook my head, Sam would never admit that, even if it were true, those words would never leave his mouth. "Let me go."

"Not until I get what I want." The smirk on his face was strange, evil, menacing and I shook as he closed the distance, in no way fit for fighting and those arms wrapped around me once again, a bruising kiss coming down as his grip in my hair tightened. They moved from my mouth, ghosted over my cheek as his hand slid from my back to wrap around my throat, breath coming quickly into my ear. "You're going to stop teasing me and give me what I want."

"Sam, please." I begged and shifted. Taking a moment to evaluate the situation, I knew there was no way I was getting out of this without causing some real damage to myself, and absolutely none to him. There was only one course of action. "What do you want?"

"You," he said softly, his nose lovingly nuzzling my ear as his lips cascaded down my neck, "all of you, it's all I ever wanted, and you denied me."

I felt him backing me up, one small step at a time until I hit the wall, and then he was kissing me. They say that you can be kissed breathless, and with ribs like mine, it wasn't a joke. I started to see stars as his mouth took over mine, dragging moans and little whimpers from me as his hand moved from my throat and moved ever lower, dipping in between the shorts and my skin.

His thick fingers found my clit before I could catch anything remotely resembling a breath, but it had me clenching his tee-shirt as he hmmed against my lips just enough to send my head spinning. I finally found some relief when he tugged my hair back, pressed his body to mine and slipped in between the wet folds. His eyes were dark, his lips tight and I saw them twitch as the wetness from my heat coated his finger.

"Admit it," he coaxed, "you want me too."

I shook my head, adamant that there was no way I was giving into that mind game, no matter what my body did in response to him. My breaths came in huffs, trying not to overdo the injuries, but that didn't stop my hips from grinding down against the feeling of his fingers thrusting up. He let out a chuckle, something that reverberated in his chest as his teeth scratched along my neck and pulled a moan from me once more.

"You like it rough," he sighed, "why did I peg you for one of those," he teased, adding another finger to the one inside me, stretching me until I rolled my eyes back and let my head thump against the wall. "I can give you rough."

"Stop, Sam," I begged as I dug my nails in, "this isn't what I want."

"This is what I want," he replied, casually, tugging me away from the wall. He took only a few steps, pulling me along as he moved his hands from my heat before slipping behind me as he bent me over the table. His body shielded mine, chest against my back, hand still in my hair as he tugged at the shorts, pulling them down until they were loose enough to fall to the floor.

I felt the pressure on the stitches, which nearly sent me into the darkness, but it was the soft kisses between my shoulder blades that had me breathing as hard as I could. His weight was nothing, as if he were holding back just enough so that he wouldn't hurt me but so I was still pinned there and I spread my fingers wide on the table, arms up by my head.

"I'm going to make you feel everything, Ray, everything that you do to me," he whispered, his breath against my ear as his jeans pushed roughly against my bare ass and I closed my eyes. Most of me wanted to tell him yes, that I wanted it all, but part of me just knew there was something wrong, I just wasn't sure what. His hand released my hair, gliding down between us as he traced my spine. "Don't move, Ray, don't make me hurt you."

Was that a threat or a promise, because right then, I didn't care. His touch was electric and I closed my eyes, trying to relax as his fingers found my folds once more, pressing in gently this time, curling against me. I moved my head, turning to put my forehead to the cool hardwood table and just as he thrust in with two, I felt my hips knock against the edge, drawing out a muffled _umph_ from me.

"Promise me you're going to stay," he whispered, his breath brushing against mine as he nipped at my ear. "I swear I won't hurt you."

"Then stop," I mumbled but he just laughed, a low, deep laugh that went straight to my middle and had me clenching around his fingers.

"Not happening, Princess." He mocked as his hand came up and he pressed me down harder onto the table.

His body shifted and he knew I didn't have the fight in me, but when his lips hit the center of my back, ghosted along my spine, I knew I wouldn't have moved even if I wanted to, I just closed my eyes and let my body drown in the feeling of everything he was doing. His fingers slipped out of me as his lips hit my tailbone, and the hand that held me down followed his kisses until they both were planted on my ass, spreading me for a greedy mouth as his tongue flicked out and ran a line straight over every sensitive area below my waist.

"Holy fuck!" I whimpered my fingers desperately trying to bit into the wood as I felt my feet go up on my tiptoes.

I had been with some pretty kinky sons of bitches but Sam Winchester took the cake as his tongue ran circles around my hole, creating a dizzying fog inside my head before moving down to delve into my sex. The tip of his thumb followed, pressing against the tight ring of muscle there before using the slick of his own spit to dip in just a bit. I clenched at the invasion and his lips pulled away.

"Shh, relax," just his words, the tone of voice had me on edge, but when his tongue dipped in and flicked at my clit, my whole body screamed out in need and his thumb slid in completely. I felt him move, dipping in between the lashing his tongue was doing and the rhythm his thumb had created, and my head began to spin.

"Sam," I moaned as my body shook, my knees threatened to give out and suddenly he was sucking on my lips, pulling them into his mouth, and I was falling off the edge, the orgasm bringing me closer to the blackness than I had been since I passed out. I rocked back onto his mouth as he pulled, his teeth raking against sensitive flesh and I wanted more, needed more, but he was making it last too long. "Sam, please!"

"Please what," he questioned even as I felt him shifting behind me, moving as the angle of his lips changed. His mouth caressed slowly back up the same way he had gone down until he was beside my ear again, this time I could feel the thickness of his cockhead rubbing, pressing just before it separated the wet heat. "I want to be inside you, Rayna, need to be deep. Please, what?"

"Do it," I snapped and brough my head up so that I could feel that stubble scraping across my face. He pushed in softly at first, letting me adjust as I hissed through the burn but damn him, I needed more, his thumb moved, both hands came down and grasped my hips as his snapped forwards, filling me completely, my bones hitting the edge of the table again.

His rhythm was a dangerous pace, while trying to hold me still so that I didn't break any of the stitches that held my side but I could hear him behind me, feel his skin slapping against mine and I reached for the other end of the table, something to hold onto, something so that the swell of him as he brushed over the nerves deep inside me didn't take me over before I was ready.

"Wait, wait," I begged, reaching back to grab his wrist but he took mine instead, pulled out and flipped me over on the table, hooking his elbows under my knees as he pushed back in just as quickly.

I scrambled to find his flesh, digging nails into his shoulders as he lowered his mouth to my breasts, nipping the skin there, sucking on those harden peaks and just as the end came barreling down on me against, I leaned my head back, my eyes locked tightly shut and I nearly screamed, but his hand gripped my hair, tugging my head down until I felt his lips on mine.

"Look at me," he ordered, as I fought to open them even as the waves of ecstacy still flowed through me. He was inches away, just far enough to see those hazel eyes, and just as he stiffened, as his own end came barreling down on him, as I felt the warmth of him spill into me, I watches those hazel eyes turn black, and his lips curved up in a sly half-smile.

It was the last thing I saw before I descended into darkness, before the scream penetrated my ears, before the world shattered around me.

I stumbled onto the bed, nearly missing it as the vision started to get cloudy, using the bed to help put pressure down on the wound. I knew the darkness would come to claim me soon, there had to be a reason the room was so dark, but I couldn't go yet, I needed to reach out.

I pulled the phone from my pocket and placed it on the bed beside me before I struggled to search through the contacts, finding the last call that I had logged. That was three days ago, three long days, and I pushed the redial, hitting the speaker to listen to it ring.

"Rayna?" Dean's voice sounded gruff but concerned over the line. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Dean?" That confused me to no end, I thought I had called Sam's number. "Dean, I need your help."

"It's been three days, Ray, where are you?" He was typical Dean, possessive and protective, but I couldn't get much more out. "Ray! What the actual fuck? RAY!"

The darkness mumbled my words, closed in around me, dragged me down, and death was something that I almost welcomed.


	2. Chapter 2

Descent Chapter 2

Death shouldn't smell like whiskey, deodorant and aftershave. Death should certainly not be warm and hard in all the right places, and Death should definitely not be peppering your face with kisses pleading for you to wake up in _that_ kind of voice. Death, apparently, didn't want me.

"Dean, come on, I can't do this if you keep making her move like that." Sam snarked from the other side of me and suddenly I was acutely aware of the needle in my side. This time it wasn't a moan of the way Dean's voice turned me on, it was a moan of pain and I moved my arm to stop him but one shot out from across my stomach, holding me down. "Christ, she's awake."

"Hey, Ray," Dean whispered against my right ear as my eyes fluttered open. "You can't move, okay, Sam's trying to get the gash stitched up." I fought against the hold, the weight of him locking me down. "Come on, you need to relax."

"Dean," I managed to mumble as my fingers flexed, but that just reminded me that my ribs hurt as I tried to take in a deeper breath. "Fuck you. Get off me! I can't breath."

"Yeah, you're going to be just fine," he snickered like a child but let go of my arm and I felt him grab the end of my shirt, raising it higher. "Jesus, what the hell possessed you to take on a whole vamps nest alone? Why didn't you call for help?"

"Cause, you're an asshole." I coughed and moaned, and then moaned again cause the moan hurt. "Pain killers, got any?"

"Yeah, coming up." He shifted off the bed, another movement that had me groaning and the hand on my side, the one pulling the string through, gave me not so much of a tickle as this strange tug at my insides, pause as he sighed.

"You have a few broken ribs, maybe some bruised ones too." Sam let out a breath, making a point to actually scold me in his own way. "The rest of you isn't bad, I mean minor stuff, but this? What did this?"

My eyes flickered in his direction and I tried to shake my head. "There were nine of them, but before I got down to the last two, one of them sliced me, I have no idea with what, just something sharp."

"And you drove your car here?" I heard Dean laugh as he rested beside me again, lifted my head just a bit and deposited the pills in my hand. Moving slowly, I was able to toss them both into my mouth before he helped bring the glass of water to my lips. Swallowing wasn't hard, breathing after swallowing was and my eyes flashed with little white dots.

"Are you kidding, my car is a classic, pristine condition, you don't just leave that sitting near some damn abandoned building while you wait for an ambulance." I muttered, the sarcasm in me just waiting to get out, but my voice was low and weak, and it didn't help that the pills seem to be hitting me like a rock, dragging me down again. What the hell had he given me? "Don't go anywhere, either of you, I don't wanna die alone."

"You're not going to die, Ray," Dean snapped but I could hear the concern in his voice. "Stop being so dramatic."

"What about you Sammy? Gonna stick around?" I thought maybe after our fight he wouldn't want anything to do with me, but there he was stuffing my innards back where they belonged. I reached out, drew a hand through his hair and listened to the light sigh he did as he gave a little bit of pressure to my hand when I left it pressed against his cheek.

"Sleep, Ray, Dean's gonna go out and get an IV bag, and I'm going to finish this up, but you need to stop moving, so let the pill do what they're supposed to," he ordered and I took a ragged breath, nodding as I felt Dean's hand on my forehead, pushing my hair back before his lips pressed against it.

FOUR days! Four days of in and out of consciousness, of blindly having Dean, or Sam, help me to the bathroom, which wasn't the most pleasant of things, but I wasn't going to wet the bed, and I didn't remember much about it anyway. Four days of sponge baths, soup in a cup, water through a straw and nearly falling off the bed because I was too damn stubborn to wake up whichever one was sharing the bed with me.

Four days of not being completely here, before I was finally able to pull myself out of the abyss and come back to reality.

I rolled to my right, feeling the warmth to that side and pulled my arms up close to my chest, but the breath against my forehead had my eyes open within moments. Startled wake, not sure where I was, or exactly what was going on, I stared at the sleeping face of Dean Winchester, his perfect jaw relaxed as he breathed easy.

Licking my dry lips, I took the chance to reach out to him, lightly running my fingers along his hairline down to where his stubbled jaw connected to the soft skin of his neck and while I watched my own fingers move, while I tried to control my own breathing in order to not wake him, I remembered that my ribs were killing me.

"You trying to scare me?" His voice muffled as he reached up and pressed my hand to his neck, making my fingers spread wide on his warm skin. Those green eyes fluttered open, as if he really didn't want to get up, but he looked at me lazily and sighed. "You already did that, ya know, calling like that, not answering. Thought you died."

"Nope, still stuck with me, Winchester." I smiled, untucked my other hand and placed it below his cheek, opening my palm to the little kiss he placed there. So this was my relationship with him, with his brother, too many years of hunting together, being the _only_ men I would hunt with, had linked me closer to both of them and as much as I loved the way he lavished the attention on me while I was hurt, all I wanted to do was get away. He must have see it because he inched his body closer, arm slid around my waist and he pulled me close.

"Don't run," he begged and I let out a breath.

"Couldn't if I tried, but I need a shower, bad, and I don't wanna lay here anymore." I groaned like a child. Dean only nodded, slipped out from my touch, let me go and got up from the bed.

I lay just where I was, looking at the sleeping body of Sam wrapped in the comforters across from me. We hadn't really talked in weeks, not since the big blowout between us, half the time I didn't remember what it was about, but I know that Sam and I hadn't been the same since and I missed him.

Dean cleared his throat, the faucet in the bathroom was going and he was holding a hand out for me. I sighed and reached up, taking that warmth in mine as he helped me sit and then stand before watching me on weak knees.

"I got this!" I snapped before he reached out for me again, and his hands fell to his side. One wrong step on wobbly legs and his arms were wrapped tightly around my waist, avoiding my ribs and the stitches.

"Yeah you got this alright, Princess." he smiled and slowly helped me walk to the bathroom. Sitting me down on the toilet, he closed the door, not enough to latch it but so that he could hear if Sam woke up.

"Really, Dean, a bath?" I growled.

"Listen, Brat, take it or leave it but you can't soak those stitches, they can get wet, but I've seen you in the shower, you go until the water runs out, and that ain't happening," he sighed and watched me roll my eyes, "that and Sam would kill me if I had to get in there with you just to hold your scrawny ass up. Now strip."

"So fucking pushy." I snapped and dropped my shorts, not that it took much since I think they were Sam's and being held on by a safety pin, but it was the shirt that I had the issue with and looked up at him with a scowl. "A little help here."

"Don't let anyone tell you that chivalry is dead." he laughed.

He squatted down before me and took the hem of my shirt, completely ignoring the fact that I was bottomless, and he bit down on his lip, keeping constant contact as he pulled the tank over my head. With a heavy swallow, his eyes went only to the bandage that Sam had put on and slowly peeled the tape back, finally releasing me only when it was completely free. I watched as he stood quickly, turned his back to me and waited for me to get into the bathtub. His breathing was heavy, that I could tell by the way his back moved, how his chest expanded from behind, and he was turned on, that much was evident by the way he fisted his hands.

With one final deep breath, he turned, shut off the water and grabbed the soap and rag from beside me before he sat down on the floor. I pulled my knees up as far as I could, which made me roll my eyes while it pulled at the stitches and his hand went right to my back.

"Hey, not like I haven't seen you naked before so just drop the act and relax, I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to." His words were soft and right in my ear, fingers dancing over my spine just below my neck and I let my legs go out, the water only going up to my waist as I turned my head towards him, but I couldn't help the way my arms crossed over my chest. "Can you turn in the tub?"

"I don't think I can fit that way without pulling something," I whispered, but scooted forward so he could get my back. Dean's hands and the combination of the soapy but rough cloth, made me sigh, as he ran it over my skin, but in his attention to making sure I was as clean as I wanted to be, he held the cloth out in order for me to get my breast and between my legs, something I appreciated. Even his touch on my legs was soft and he maintained eye contact as he washed them down.

With a sigh, he popped the lock on the tub, letting the water out, and then grabbed the showerhead, pulling it from the hook so that he could start the water once again. I turned in the tub, my back to the drain and I let him wash my hair, the suds running down my body as I let my head fall back. His fingers were soft and caring with the shampoo and conditioner and somewhere in my treatment, I had closed my eyes and relaxed enough to just listen to the noise.

The sound of a throat clearing is what startled me back to reality and I glanced over, as Dean turned around, to look at the man taking up much of the doorway. I gave Sam a sidewards grin and closed my eyes once more. I had managed to pull my right knee up and wrap my arms around it, covering most of me but not pulling on the stitches.

"I think she's going to turn into a prune if you keep her in there any longer, Dean," Sam stifled a laugh as he crossed his arms and looked me over.

"Yeah well, your happy ass was still snoozing away and she wanted this, so what are ya gonna do?" He quipped back but finished rinsing my hair before he shut off the water and squeezed my hair. He was wet, his shirt was wet, so were his jeans, but he handed me a towel first and let me wrap myself with it before helping me out of the tub and to the seat. "I'll get your clothes."

Sam backed out of the way as Dean moved passed before commanding the doorway once again. "You okay?"

"Better now, thank you." I smiled, and really I felt human again. "Sam, about last time," I started but in a flash, I could see him over me, feel him in me and I watched as those hazel eyes turned black before I could blink and then I was sitting in the bathroom again.

"Jesus, Ray!" Sam whispered, moving to kneel in front of me, "you just got really pale."

"I'm okay, some left over nightmare, maybe." I shrugged but there was something so real about it. "Like I said, last time…"

"We don't need to talk about it right now." his eyes were furrowed as he reached out and ran his fingers over my cheek. Dean reached over his shoulder, handing me a pair of my shorts, a tank and one of his flannels. "Need help?"

"The tank maybe," I sighed and handed him the black top. Dean stood back by the sink, arms crossed as he watched me raise my arms. Sam found the armholes and rolled it up easy enough to move it over my hands, down my arms and let it rest against the towel with one sweep of his hands. Talented boy but that was when I looked at both of them and gave a little bit of a sly smile. "The bottoms I can do all by myself, boys."

"Right," Sam said and nodded, quickly getting up to leave the room but it was the desire that flashed in Dean's eyes that made me blush and look away from him before he turned, giving me the once over and followed after his brother, leaving the door wide open in case I needed them.

I managed it alone, even the flannel that smelled like Dean and as I pulled it tightly around me, buttoning it up almost completely, I remember having Sam's wrapped exactly the same way. With a shake of my head, I used the wall to maneuver out to the room. Dean was at the table, polishing his gun, Sam sat on my bed, his lower arms resting on his knees but as I let go of the doorsill and reached out for the dresser both looked up.

"I, ah, I might need help with the dressing," I shrugged and leaned against the hardwood, suddenly exhausted.

"You might need some more rest," Dean added as Sam got up and walked to me, his hands slipping under my arms as I grabbed his upper ones. I followed his steps as he backed up, but he didn't go to the bed that Dean and I had shared, he moved to the one he had been in and slowly turned me to lower me onto the bed. "I'll get some sheets."

I knew what they were doing, cleaning up the bed I had been in for four days, but Dean's exit meant I was alone with Sam again and I let out a breath as he sat down on the bed across from me.

"You've been gone for weeks, why haven't you called?" I listened the worry in his voice but just shrugged it off as I pulled my legs up on the bed and slowly eased down onto the pillows that smelled like Sam. Closing my eyes, I let myself drown into that smell, until the flash feeling of him behind him, his tongue running over every sensitive spot between my legs had me moaning. "Hey, Ray?"

"I'm okay, Sam," I whispered, still keeping my eyes closed, but I shivered at the thought of it, "I think I just need to sleep."

I faded quickly, so much so that I never even heard Dean come back in the room, but there was a faint hint of conversation, one that flooded in and out of my ears, one that never seemed to make any sense, but why was it so hard to get back to reality.

A week… a week since the whole bath thing, a week since waking up strong enough to move, and we were still stuck in this godforsaken motel room. Not that I was never alone since the boys still had cases in the area, but they would come back every night and be with me. Either Sam or Dean in my bed and finally I had enough.

Today, I didn't care how or where, but I needed to get out.

I was dressed when they returned, both of them decked out in their Fed Threads, and God did they ever look sexy in them. Dean raised a brow as he stopped beside the bed looking down at me and Sam glanced over the tight jeans, boots and tee-shirt I wore before he hung up the jacket.

"Going somewhere?" Dean questioned, that gruff voice ever so friendly and I smiled, because it was never aimed at me, just the way he spoke.

"Dinner," I replied, lacing the last part of my right boot, still struggling with the left since it meant pulling it up and the stitches seemed to wanna cause issues.

"Oh, yeah, who's the lucky guy?" Sam grinned but I ignored him as I stood and slipped on my jacket.

"Well, if it isn't you two, then I'm going alone." I snapped and watched him turn.

"Oh no," Dean stepped in and I watched him hold up a finger, pointing it right at me, those green eyes coming down to stare at me and I couldn't help the smile. "We almost lost you once and that was too close of a call for me. So, just… no."

"Then strip, Hot Stuff, cause I'm hungry." The implications of the statement had Dean's lips go in a straight line, as if he had never expected to hear that from me and I tilted my head just a little before he huffed and was suddenly squatting before me. I reached out, placing my hands on his shoulders as he started to lace the boot, but his head was close to the heat between my legs and what one Winchester did to me was nothing compared to what this one did.

Did I mention I had a thing for both, wanted them both, needed them both but in the four years that I had hunted with them, nothing had ever happened?

Dean looked up at me, a sultry look in his eyes as I glanced down, swallowed hard and averted my eyes, catching the sly grin on Sam's face before he pulled his own tee-shirt on and moved about the room. Dean stood, placed his cheek against my ear and breathed out lightly.

"Damn you smell good." he whispered before letting his fingers run down my arm and I felt my breath hitch, the bruised and broken ribs still kicking my ass and I quickly cleared my throat, turning to watch the two of them ready themselves.

The diner wasn't too far away, and to be able to walk into it without any help from the boys was fantastic, but you can just imagine the looks I got when I moved through the small place, one that looked like an old train car, with two six-foot plus men behind me. Yeah, I had bodyguards, but it was Dean that slid in beside me as I sat with my back to the wall, and Sam that made sure to keep me shielded when he moved into the seat in front of me.

One woman, not anyone that made me think twice, came over and offered us coffee, which all three of us took despite the fact that it was nearly midnight, but it was the one that actually brought it that had me questioning what was going on.

She smiled at the boys, just like every normal waitress would do, until her eyes locked on mine. Bright blue eyes, dark hair, and I knew I met her somewhere before. As she stared, all I could hear was the beeping of machines and the bright white light that blinded my eyes, something about that stuck and when I felt Dean's hands on my face, taking my sights from her, I managed to snap back to reality.

"Okay, this was a bad idea," he whispered, his forehead against mine as I breathed through the darkness that threatened to pull my under, but I controlled my breathing and placed my hands on his.

"No, no," I whispered and finally found the courage, the need to lift my eyes, taking in all the gold flecks that shined in his before I turned to the waitress again and read her name tag. _Reyes_. I shook. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine, and we should go." Dean snapped and I felt him shake, trying to keep it in, but I backed away from his hands and smiled up at the woman.

"Cheeseburger," I answered, giving her a smile and watched as she quickly wrote it done, "medium, no onion."

"Fries?" She questioned.

"What's my choices?" I grinned.

"It's fries or no!" Dean growled and I turned a little surprised by his outburst before catching the frustration in those wild green orbs. "You don't substitute anything for fries when you get a burger. That's just… wrong."

I smiled and looked up, nodding at the woman, but I couldn't shake the feeling I knew her from somewhere. Turning back to Dean when she left, I couldn't help but watch the way he looked at me, something had changed since we had been stuck together almost every day, but my eyes also took in the relaxed way that Sam watched us, like he was expecting a show of some sort, even as he placed one hand on the back of the seat and moved the spoon around in his coffee.

"What gives?" I whispered, focusing my attention back on Dean who just gave me a pouty _don't know_ with his lips. I dropped the subject until after I filled up on the burger, but kept my eyes on Reyes, who stood at the end of the counter, far, far away from the three of us. I cleared my throat and pushed at Dean, who glanced at me over his newly filled coffee. "Move it, Winchester, I gotta use the restroom."

He rolled his eyes, slipped out of the seat and watched me. His eyes, and Sam's, seemed to burn through my back as I turned the corner and disappeared, but that action got me just what I wanted. Not a moment after I closed the door, it opened again and the woman behind the counter was stepping in.

Forget the stitches, in an instant, I had her up against the wall, angel blade that had been tucked into my boot (mind you it was a miniature one that Cas had given me so long ago because let's face it, there is no way I was carrying something two and a half feet long in my tiny ass hands), was now up against her neck.

"Who are you?" I growled and watched as her eyes flashed black.

"I'm here to help you," she whispered.

"Yeah, sure, a demon who wants to help me." I laughed and pushed the tip up under her jaw. "Why?"

"You don't belong here."

"I'm a hunter, I don't belong anywhere, that's my job, come in and disappear, kinda goes with the job description."

She leaned her head down, the tip digging into her soft tissue and she hissed as it broke the skin. "No you don't belong _HERE_ and you've already been trapped long enough, you need to break free, you need to listen to the signs."

"Bitch, you're making me mad." I growled and stepped back.

"Hunters don't belong here, they don't last that long without going insane so I suggest you smarten up, and find a way out." She snapped and turned, moving out the door before I could do anything else.

Tucking the blade away, I finished my business, washed my hands and met the two men at the register. "Let's get out of here."

The motel room was stuffy. The air inside thick with something I couldn't pinpoint but Reyes? The doctor from my dream had been standing in the women's room, blade to her throat and still she flashed black. Who the fuck does that? Sitting down on the bed, I rubbed my eyes. Maybe I was still too exhausted for this crap.

It felt like hours that I sat there, wanting nothing more than to remember everything from the nightmare, the moments before it, the days in the hospital before I woke up but I had nothing, nothing but flashes and why would Reyes say the same thing to me now as she did before. I was a hunter but I couldn't be there, I had to find a way out. What exactly did that mean?

Before I knew it, I was rubbing my eyes again, but this time to get the sleep out, and the room was quiet, there was no sounds from the boys, no rustling of clothes or the shower spraying on, not even the noise of the television. They must have thought I was exhausted enough to finally leave me be and have some sort of peace before we got something going. Taking a deep breath, I scanned the room, starting from the empty second bed to the bathroom and around to see Dean sitting in the chair next to the table, his body relaxed but his eyes were scanning over me like I was dinner.

I was laying back on the bed, knees bent, legs open and my arms above my head and that was when I notices the pain in my wrists, feeling the coldness of the metal against them and fear hit my heart, making it pound as I tried to move them down to look at them. The cuffs pulled against the restrain of something more and my breath quickened as I looked wide eyed at Dean. There was no one else around and I was confused and frustrated as I tugged at them, trying to pull them closer so I could see just what was going on.

"Untie me!" I snapped, one of my biggest fears was restraints and Dean knew it, but I had mastered all of them, the ways to escape because of the boys, but this was different. I yanked down on the cuffs again, knowing I couldn't get off the end of the bed, by going down but as I pushed up I found the length of rope that held me only from moving one way. "Dean! Untie me!"

"No," he answered casually but his answer was straight forward, no games and he slowly moved from the chair to lean over me, one hand by my head that he put weight down on as the other stroked down my right side to the spot where my shirt had risen. I felt his legs nudge between my knees, spreading me wider as his eyes blinked lazily. "Do you know how much I want you?"

"Dean, just untie the ropes, please." This was not funny, not funny at all and oh my God I was about to go into full panic mode, but his lips came down hard on mine, shocking a hum out of me as I closed my eyes. They weren't like Sam's, all take and no give, they started out hard but slowly his need waved and he was kissing like he meant it, like he really wanted it. My body responded, arching up against that hand on my waist, his fingers caressing my hot skin. When he broke away, only a second more than needed, I panted against his lips, wanting them back but needing to get out of this damn trap, "please, Dean, I'm begging you, let me go."

"Oh, honey, I have so many ideas for you and this is just the way I want them to come true," he smiled, breathing into me, his hand slipping from my waist, moving up, fingers spread wide. I felt his thumb rub over the light cloth of the less than adequate bra and instantly my nipple was at attention, and a low moan escaped. "See, sweetheart, it's not that bad. Trust me, you'll like it."

"Dean, please, I love you, don't do this!" I begged, but I knew it was no use, something was wrong here, very, very wrong.

His lips caressed my skin softly, like I would have expected Dean to do. He was very gruff in his life, very in control, but when he kissed, it was always tender, always soft and caring, even if it was just on the forehead, on the neck. Shit! That was what he was doing now, and I closed my eyes, hoping that the softness continued, even as the shirt I was wearing slowly tucked up under my chin. My bra was next, just a thin piece of cloth that hooked in the back, but my chest now lay open to his caresses.

His lips were soft, sending chills down my spine as his tongue moved over the taunt peaks of my nipples and I whimpered just a bit before he pinched at them with his teeth. I could feel the pressure between my legs the need for him to touch me, in any way, it didn't matter how. That was when he leaned down, pressing his stomach to the heat there, and his mouth scorched a path to the waist of my jeans.

His fingers didn't leave my breasts, kneading and pinching as his tongue seemed to take up the task of fucking my navel, something that I would have never thought was a turn-on but, holy hell, I could come from this alone. Those fingers glided down until he was tugging at the button on my jeans, ripping the zipper down but he only stood, never took his mouth from my skin as I suddenly felt the cool breeze of the room against the wet heat he exposed. Jeans and panties had fallen to the floor and I fought against the restraints as his hands slowly slid up my thighs.

"No, no, no, Dean," I begged and yanked down on the rope, "wait, don't do it this way, please."

His eyes looked up at me from under his dark lashes, blown wide with lust and that tongue slowly glided over my stomach, lavished little kisses and pinching bits on the scars there before I felt him dip in. My whole body shook as his mouth covered my lips, sucking down hard on the bundle of nerves that sat just under the attention of his tongue.

"Oh, God!" I wanted to yell it but it came out more of a surprise as I tipped my head back and thrust my hips up to meet him, but his hand came down, holding me still as he began his campaign to see me come completely undone under him. "Fuck! Dean!"

"Shh, baby, I'm going to take care of you," he whispered, his mouth humming against everything that was over sensitive, over stimulated and the sound I let out was more of a laugh then anything, like there I couldn't take much more.

His hands traveled down to my ankle, grabbed one tight and lifted it up to the bed, placing it close to my ass and I snapped my head up to look at him. His green eyes were on me, watching my every expression but as confused as I was, I couldn't stop the fear when he brought out his red-striped tie and wrapped it securely around my thigh, making sure that I couldn't put my leg down. My heart raced as he did the same with the other leg, no matter how much I fought against it, and that blue and white one graced my skin. Stupid thoughts raced through my mind, like at least it was soft, at least they weren't ropes, at least he was being gentle… at least he wasn't a fucking...

"Demon," I breathed as I watched his eyes flash black and his tongue slip out to taste me one more time before he made his way up between my legs. I shook, everything in me shook as his hand separated the folds and his fingers slipped in, two at once, not waiting for me to adjust, but he got the groan he wanted as his lips fell to mine again.

The way my legs were tied, there was no way to wrap them around him, no way to close him off and he fit right where he wanted to be, pumping digits in and out at a slow torturous pace that had my body rocking down on his hands.

"What a good little girl," he whispered, his lips barely a breath from mine, "I knew you wanted this, knew you wanted me. You're mine, you know, mine and Sam's, never gonna let you go."

"Dean!" I whimpered, feeling like I had lost a battle but there was I could do, was there, this was one fucked up situation. "Take them off."

"Shh, little one," he cooed against me and slowly removed the fingers that had brought me over the edge more than once before I felt the pressure of something larger against me. "Gonna make you come, gonna make you feel real good, and then, I'm going to call Sammy and we're going to do it all over again."

I felt the tears run down from my eyes as he pressed deeper, but he gave me time to adjust, to really feel him, until he was seated flush against my skin, and then he slowly slipped out enough to snap his hips forward. The force, the pressure, and the feeling had my eyes rolling, my toes curled and I couldn't deny that I wanted him, had always wanted him, just like his brother, but I couldn't let a demon do this, not to me.

The sounds from him were almost animalistic and they pulled at my core, bringing on the heat that build up at the base of my spine, growing in intensity as he continued a brutal pace that seemed to increase the closer I got to the edge. I closed my eyes tight, let my head fall back as I bared my neck for him, my fingers gripping around the rope in order to keep the metal from digging into my wrists, but that was when I noticed it. It wasn't the good stuff, the heavy crap that they always tied things down with. This was the white stretchy kind that they used for laundry lines and I could feel the end of it where tied around the metal

I had an idea and I was going to do what I had to in order to get away.

"Dean," I groaned, hoping to get him to do just what I wanted and those black eyes came up to stare at me, even as he pounded against my body, his lips seemed to do strange things, light feathery kisses, the total opposite of the way he surged in. "Pull my hair."

"Never figured you for a rough one," he gasped, like the idea was more of a turn-on that being inside me.

"Please," I begged, okay fake begged, cause I really didn't want him to pull anything, I wanted him to get off, and not in the end-all-be-all way. His fingers ran up, releasing his hold on my hips and he slipped behind my arms, grabbed a length of my hair and yanked, tugging my head back so I could see the cuffs. I moaned as he shifted, pushing up further so that he could find my mouth again. His kisses, like the rage in his body, became more of a claiming way to take me and I moaned into him, still feeling the build-up that was about to rock me, but his face was still too close. "Bite me."

"Mm, does Sammy know you're this kinky?" He laughed against my lips but he began to slide that perfect, plus mouth across my skin, "I'm going to mark you up, Princess, show everyone who you belong to," his breath was warm against my ear as he tugged just a little bit, but that voice was dangerous, "and then, I'm going to have mark right over them, every… single.. One."

His words were accentuated by a hard thrust into me, and I closed my eyes tightly, taking the way that he touched everything inside. I was in trouble if I didn't get this done and get out because I wanted to agree to every word that slipped from those lips.

His teeth clamped down on the slope of my neck, sucking my skin between his teeth as those lips caressed and I fought off the urge to just give into him but he had put me right where I wanted, as he bucked in and sucked down, I could see the way my fingers moved. This wasn't a Winchester knot, this was totally wrong, and simply undone before the orgasm that he pulled from me ripped through my body.

I latched onto the rope, giving me something to hold onto besides bringing my hand down and digging my fingers into Dean's back, something I wanted to do as his body swelled inside me, toppling me over the edge, but as I breathed through it, felt myself shaking, I pulled against his fisted hand.

"Kiss me, Dean," I whispered, feeling the high from the pleasure that sang over my nerves.

He picked his head up, released his hold on me and brought his lips closer, giving me free reign of my upper body. His lips dragged across mine, cock still thrusting and I looked once more into his eyes as the black faded out of them and the green shined through.

I wanted to believe this was all a dream but I couldn't I didn't have it in me, and squaring my proverbial shoulders, I used every ounce of strength I could find and slammed my head into his. Dean stumbled, I watched the way his pupils changed and he slowly slipped from the bed, crashing towards the floor on the wrong damn side.

His body blocked the exit, and my only way out would have been through the bathroom, but as I sat up, yanked the ties from my legs, and moved, I knew it wouldn't do me any good, the window was too small and the stitches were screaming at me. I had just about reached the bathroom door when I felt an arm around my waist, slamming me face first in the space between the wall and the dresser.

Dean's hand grabbed the cuffs and stretched my arms up above my head as he pulled back on my hips. "Stupid bitch!"

I felt him thrust in, not gentle at all this time and screamed out! Closing my eyes tight as he kept a brutal pace, building the pressure in my sex back up to another shaking orgasm, but I couldn't give into the blackness like I wanted to. I had to get out, I had to survive. That was when I spotted it, the demon blade that Dean had set down when they first came in to change out of their FBI suits, it was always on him but now it sat there. How the hell did I get to it?

There was no denying it this time, the way the heat radiated from me and I clenched my fingers together, felt my legs shake as he held me up, pulled me back more and when the rush came, I did too, screaming out his name as he swell, stiffened and spilled his warmth inside me. Placing my forehead against the wall, I waited for the backlash of his anger, but he breathed contently and placed his cheek between my shoulders.

"Hmm, might need to do it this way all the time, you're so much easier when you're pinned." He laughed, but that did nothing more than piss me off.

I brought my leg up and slammed my heel down on his foot, hearing him scream in pain as he let me go and backed off. It all happened so fast, I twirled, snatched the knife from the dresser and plunged it deep into his left side. His eyes widened, his breath hitched and his lips fell open.

"You're not _My_ Dean!" I snapped and pulled the knife from him. His face sparked that orange color, I watched the life drain from his eyes and suddenly he crumpled onto the floor, blood flowing from the wound to his heart. Catching my breath, I grabbed the lock-pick kit from my bag, fought with the cuffs and finally got them to open.

I grabbed the blade, Dean's flannel and headed for the door, but I needed my keys. Grabbing them from the bedside table, I looked up just as the door opened and Sam walked in. He stopped, wide open as he looked down at Dean, then his black eyes came up to me, scanned over my naked body and the way the blood dripped down my side and his hands clenched.

Flipping the demon blade in my hand, to grab the tip, I launched it within a split second of the move, lodging it deep into his chest. Sam's eyes looked down, confused, before he dropped the items in his hands and sank to his knees. He looked at me one last time before that spark of life went out, hazel returning to the dead look that now filled his eyes.

A bright flash of light filled the space around me and the pain ripped over me.

My eyes were as wide open as they were going to get as I made my way towards the bed, coughing on the blood that seeped out of my lips and I nearly missed as I laid down on my left side, keeping the pressure on the slice that had me bleeding out in no time. I wanted to sleep, that was all there was too it, but I needed help, needed to fix this.

Slipping my hand into my jeans, I yanked the phone from the pocket, and set it down on the bed. Looking over my last contacts, and the fact that it was three days ago that Sam had called just to check in, my finger hovered above the call button. For a moment I took a breath, I needed to remember something, to see something but I wasn't sure what.

Grinding my teeth, I closed my hand around the phone and threw it with everything I had against the far wall of the room before I shook my head.

I got myself into this, and I would be damned if I was going to call them to get me out of it. All I needed was just a little rest


	3. Chapter 3

Death was cold, it ached, it screamed out. Death was dark, encompassing, unending. Death didn't flash out the backstory of your life, it didn't lead you to a high place. It didn't leave you wet and drained and reaching for something that was completely beyond your touch. Death, it seemed, didn't want me.

It took everything I had to open my eyes, to try and find my way back to reality, but it was hard, harder than anything I had ever done. I probably shouldn't have slept, but with the blood loss there was no way of getting around it. Sometime later I remember waking up, my side stuck to the bed with drying blood, and my lids felt heavy, like two small weights wanting nothing more than to close.

I wasn't going to give into this, couldn't give into it, and I knew I needed to move. First it was my fingers, flexed the cold ache out of them, then moved onto the arms before I found the strength to push up and away from the fabric. The bleeding had stopped from the pressure applied, but I knew as soon as I peeled the sheet away, it would begin again.

Shaking fingers made it hard to grip the knife, but somehow they managed to get it though the sheet and I was finally free to fall off the bed. Landing ungracefully as possible, the air rushed from me as I felt the bruised and broken bones of my ribs and the darkness swallowed me whole.

Hours later, maybe moment, maybe days, heavy lids opened again and this time I was looking at the side of the bed. I swallowed dryly and moved my head around, hoping to find some sort of direction, but again, I only moved as far as my body would take me. Pushing up and shifting as slowly as possible, I managed to crawl over to the bag that sat by the edge of the dresser.

Struggling to catch my breath as I leaned back on it, I took the knife and cut the length of my tanktop, exposing the sheet that was still stuck to my skin. Everything seemed to take ten times the effort, but I knew in the end it came down to one thing. Stitches.

Another hour passed as I fought with consciousness and the water bottle cap in order to drench the sheet and remove it slowly from the wound, even drinking what was left seemed to take effort that I didn't have. Dumping the pack beside me, I was able to pull the first aid kit from my bottom, a bottle of peroxide and a hidden fifth of whiskey. Perfect!.

The pain that shot through me when I huffed a few breaths before dumping the peroxide onto the gash was nothing compared to the searing pain of the first ten stitches that I managed to make it through before my world faded once more.

Blinking back to reality, I was happy to find that I was laying on my right side, away from the ugly wound and after a quick drink, not that whiskey was going to do me any good at all, I found the courage to continue, passing out again before the next fifteen were finished.

This was becoming a problem.

The bag contained granola bars and two more bottles of water, all of which I managed to finish within the hours it had taken me to finally finish the gash and knock my own ass out five more times. The blood loss was going to kill me if the infection I was sure to get didn't first. I needed something else, something to help with the regeneration of cells but since I could barely move without becoming exhausted, the option of sleeping anywhere but on the floor was completely nixed.

The next time I awoke, the sun was high enough in the sky that I was able to find my phone without the help of the bathroom light, the only one that had been on since I arrived, and I checked the time. A day had passed.

Feeling the lethargy of my wound, but the pressing issue of my bladder, I turned onto my side, dropping my arms in front of me as I tried my best to get on my knees. It worked, for the most part, and I made my way towards the bathroom at a snail's pace, becoming winded enough to say fuck it and lay down with my face to the cold hard linoleum before ever reaching the toilet.

I couldn't breath, so I had decided that I was just going to wait there then, until I mustered up more energy to move. It took longer than I thought.

This went on for days, four days to be exact, but with the in and out of consciousness, finally getting the strength up to bath, finding the right kind of clothes that wouldn't kill the patch job I had done and learning how to wrap my own ribs, I accomplished a lot, including getting food. Stolen credit cards always came in handy, and a burger joint that delivered was something I lived for.

By the fourth day, I had managed to befriend the driver, who stopped asking if he should really be calling an ambulance by the color and look on my face, and even had him stopping off at a convenience store for orange juice and anything that might help keep my blood sugar up. The sheets on the first bed were totally ruined, there was blood soaked into the mattress and I had to throw away the sheet and my clothes.

My phone rang a total of five times, I never answered it once, but as I sat down on the floor between the beds, too exhausted to make it up to the pillows on that fourth night, having tried to accomplish something other than eating or sleeping, (like moving, getting motion going in my body) I thought about the dreams that had always stirred me from the blackness.

Sam's mouth on mine, Dean's hands on my body, the way they both felt, the way they took what they wanted, the shear panic in my brain, the heart in my chest that raced, and I knew that something wasn't right. Something was escaping my attention.

On the verge of another blackout, another descent into darkness, I heard the alarm from the room next door, the way it beeped at a steady pace and suddenly, I saw myself in a hospital room, a woman with bright blue eyes hovered over me, penlight blinding me and when she moved it, there was a quick shift of black, like a matte black that covered everything.

At that moment, my ribs threatened to burst against the makeshift tie that was around them. I struggled to breath as her words came back to me. _Hunter_ she had repeated it, but she was a demon, why was she telling me that hunters didn't last long there, but there was yet another shift in my memories, a diner. Some old trolley car diner where I walked by her, then had her pinned to the bathroom wall. _Hunter_ was her word again, didn't belong here. _Signs_ , she used, look for the signs, or follow the signs, but my heart was racing now as I remembered the black eyes on Dean, the menacing way he held me, took me, tied me up. The black flash from Sam's as he pressed into me, growled in my ear, made my body feel everything, and like it.

Demons, they were all demons but why, why would she sat those things. _Look at the signs_. Why couldn't I just remember everything and be done? Why couldn't I just go home or die? I should have just let death take me, but then again, as I recalled, death didn't want me.

I placed my head back against the bed, my hand against my chest and I counted by from fifty, trying to hold onto everything that I was, everything that I had in me that helped me survive but it was Sam's voice that snapped me to attention.

We had an argument weeks ago, but still three days before the vamp nest, he had called, he had wanted to know if I was okay, but I had never answered, never called back and when I was here, when I could have called out for help, I threw the phone across the room. There was a reason for that, I was sure, but there was nothing that I could place my fingers on.

Signs, what fucking signs?

I managed to get the pillow down from the bed, the comforter untucked as I slept between them, safe in a little cave, gun by my side, blade handle under my fingers. That was when the flashes really started. Signs, she was right I was ignoring them.

Four days, no matter what I had always been down for four days before I was able to move, four days at the hospital, four days before I was able to get in and out of a bath alone. What was the meaning of four days. A week after that, a week after they took me home, Sam had gone rogue and a black-eyed bitch, a week and Dean had become a Dom, tying me to the bed, taking what he wanted. One week and I had killed them both.

Reyes… the woman herself was a demon, a demon that they trusted, in a hospital that hunters didn't last long, in a diner that she was a waitress in. Sam's eyes, Dean's eyes, the knot in the rope that held the handcuffs, the layout of the bunker, the phone call when I finally hit the bed.

What finally got me, what really triggered everything was how easy they died. Dean would never leave his blade around, so close to something like what was going on, no he would have had it locked down. There was no way I was going to be able to bring him to his knees by slamming my head against him. There was no possible scenario that he would use a knot that I could have so easily slipped out of if they were the ones that taught me the trick.

Sam would have never stepped further into the room if Dean was dead, he would have drawn and fired. He would have dodged, not stood and taken the blade in his chest no matter how quick I was to toss it. He would have never been so ill prepared, never so vulnerable.

My eyes fluttered open, a ray of blinding light cascaded over me yet again and I shivered at the cold. I felt as if I had gone back to the beginning again, but I was still laying on the floor, still tucked in that blanket, and then it all flooded back. Everything that I had seen and felt with both boys, at the bunker, here at the hotel and I couldn't stop the racing of my heart.

Covered in sweat, the blankets around me soaked, I felt the fever flash through me. I pushed everything off, stripped down to a pair of boyshort and a tank before even thinking of glancing at the stitches. I had made it four days without even so much of a hint of infection but now, I could feel the rush of it through my veins, not even a regular one, but a blood infection that had me curling over in pain.

I swallowed as much as I could, trying to get the dry, burning pain from my throat as I grabbed the phone and called the young man I had befriended, begged him to bring me anything he could get his hands on, water, orange juice, something to help and I crawled over towards the bag, hoping that there was some sort of syringe with an antibiotic stuffed into the bottom of it.

Finding something, a small vial marked azithromycin, I grabbed an unopened syringe, filled it with 25 milliliters, my eyes trying not to register how big the damn thing was, and quickly jammed it into my leg, pushing the plunger down with a measured movement. Once I finally withdrew it, capped it and tossed it in the closest trash, I waited for the young man to arrive.

I dozed in and out in the time it took for the knock on the door to rouse me from the edge of the darkness, but I was feeling strong enough to get up and move, the heat in me settling down and I wondered if the medication was already working to battle the infection in my system.

With one hand grabbing the small angel blade that sat on the table, something Cas had given me as a present months ago, I wrapped my fingers around the handle and turned it, listening for anything out of the ordinary, but there was just another familiar rap on the door.

"Ms. Santana?" Came the boy's voice and I let out a breath before opening the door.

I should have known better, I should have been more prepared but when the latch gave and the door thrust in on me, I had no choice but to react in the only way I knew how, with violence.

The body that flew at me was slight, feminine and familiar, like I had been in a tangle with her before. Her bright blue eyes locked on mine, but her grin was full of malice as she swung with everything she could muster. I countered, the breath knocked from me but I managed to hold onto the blade before tucking it in the back of my shorts.

With a jab, I felt her stomach give, her breath leave her lungs and I lunged closer, until I was able to twist the wrist I managed to grab ahold of behind her back, snapping it up towards her shoulders as an audible crack echoed through the room. I should not be able to do this as damaged as I was, and I felt the power surge through me.

These antibiotics were awesome!

Hearing her belt out a scream, I kicked her knee, sending her tumbling to the floor with all my weight on top of her, the problem was, the fall shifted my ribs, which made me growl, which only pissed me off more as I flipped her over onto her back and thrust my fist against her face.

One broken arm lay by her side, the other did very little to block the assault I was now reigning down on her as I moved with a right hook and then left, alternating blows before I sent one straight to her ribs.

Broken and bloody, I knelt against her thighs and watched as she looked at me with a blood-soaked grin. Shifting so that I could get the best hold on her, I moved her against the wall, supporting her shoulders on the wood as I straddled her waist once more. Pulling the blade from it's spot, which amazed me hadn't caused any damage, I pressed the tip against her throat.

"Tell me who you are!" I growled, using my other hand to grip a handful of her hair. The undamaged arm came up to grip my wrist but without a thought, I stabbed it with the blade, sheathing it halfway into her skin. She screamed out again, dropping her shoulder as she looked up at me from under drenched hair. "Who are you?"

"A friend," she whispered and I felt her body move under me, like a shifter shedding skin and her thighs got thicker, hip bones dug into me as her chest widened and her hair shortened. Those blue eyes never changed, they only became brighter. The black hair slipped between my fingers as _he_ looked up at me, still sporting the damage I had done. "Rayna."

"Cas?" I snapped, angry and uncertain, but I wasn't falling for that trick again, not with what I had just been through with the boys. I moved my hand from his head, sliding it down over the scruff that covered his jaw before I grabbed hold of his shirt, twisting that tie around my hand.

I didn't say anything, there was no point, he wasn't really there, was he? This was just another hallucination, something brought on by the fever, but he was so warm. I took as deep of a breath as I could, taking in the soft smell of what I would have associated as a summer breeze, something that was completely Cas, placing the blade down on the floor beside his broken arm.

"Ray, you need to fight this, you need to get away, get out of this room." the low gravel of his voice sent shivers through my overheated body and I sat down hard on his lap, feeling the sudden strangeness of his erection below me. Closing my eyes, I slid against him, and felt him shift below me, as if he were trying to get away. "You're not that far gone, Ray, you need to follow your heart, it will pull you out."

My heart? My heart had been broken by the two men that I loved the most, used and ripped apart in my mind, taken and twisted and there was nothing left to follow, but I knew that what I wanted to do was wrong, how I wanted it was even worse, but it didn't stop the thoughts, or the movements that came next.

I yanked at his tie, bringing his lips to mine, chapped, dry lips that at first stayed under the pressure of my own, but as I tilted my head just a bit, as I angled everything just right so I could feel them more, I heard a low moan escape him and he opened just enough that I could swipe my tongue across the soft inside of them.

He tasted like strawberries and cream, like everything holy and sinful and I rutted down against his dress pants, trying to satiate the sudden heat in my core. I deepened the kiss, dipping my tongue between those lips, wanting to feel his arms around me but I smiled into it, knowing there was nothing he could do.

Groaning as I pressed harder, moved quicker but with no relief, I slowly moved my free hand between us, and my mouth left his to catch his breath, if angels really breathed. I knew he wanted to get away, but couldn't and I smiled as I released the tie from my grip. Taking the hand that I had stabbed, knowing there was still sensation in them, I moved it carefully placing the palm against my thigh as I tugged the edges of the soaked shorts away from my heat.

Lifting my head, I stared down into his eyes as I folded his fingers, settled his hand between my legs and used my own need to push him up into me. I sighed at the fullness, at the burn the forceful entry had caused and Cas looked up at me with a creased brow, not sure of how he should feel, but knowing this was doing so much more to him then it should.

"Don't worry, angel," I whispered as I rolled on his fingers, letting the two inside me stiffen as he made an effort to push up as I came down. "I'm not going to hurt you anymore."

"Ray," his word was breathless, but he was staring up at me, lips parted, starting to look completely wrecked without me even touching him.

That was when I knew what I wanted next and how much I wanted it. I grabbed his belt and yanked at it, tugging it aside as I continued to ride his fingers, a fine sheen of sweat breaking out on the man, the _being_ beneath me, and he let out a whimper as I snapped open the button, moved the zipper down as skillfully as I could in order _not_ to hurt him anymore.

His eyes closed as my fingers wrapped around his girth, pulling him past the harsh fabric, while stroking up the length of him. He moaned, as if this were something new, which I knew it wasn't and I couldn't help but feel the pressure growing in me. Sliding up around him, feeling his body quake under me just from my hand drew noises from me that I couldn't catch before they escaped and I let my eyes close for just a second before I shifted off his fingers.

Cas groaned at the loss, but that was when the smile crossed my lips. Wrapping that tie around my hand once again, and my fingers around the base of him, I moved in for another kiss as I placed the head of his cock against my slick hole. God, did I want this, I wanted him and I was going to hell because he was an angel, but then again, I really didn't care.

Sliding down just over the tip, I brought him up to my mouth, pulling on the tie enough to choke him but he only submitted to my need as, inch by inch, I took him in until he was panting against my lips.

Riding him as if it were the last thing I ever did, I could feel every nerve in my body coming undone. He was perfect, in length and size, wide enough to touch every sensitive spot inside me and I could feel the edge that it was bringing me closer to. I released his lips, backed away enough to see the pleasure that crossed his expression, and the confusion as he bit down on his lip, tried to buck up into me and screwed his eyes tightly shut.

"Wait, please," he begged as I felt him swell inside me, knowing his end was near, and those bright blue ones were suddenly open and alive. I grabbed his hair, tugged his head back and kissed him solidly as my body trembled, electric currents running over every inch and just as I moaned into him, I heard him gasp before pulling away and grunting through his own release. "No, no," he pleaded as his body shuddered beneath me as I came to rest on his cock, skin flush to skin and the warmth that he spilled inside me slowly leaked out as pulled up on him. He clenched his teeth as I moved up enough to tease at the oversensitive tip and he shook his head against my hold. "Rayna, please, wait."

"For what, Cas?" I needed to know, but he let all the fight go out of his body as he leaned more against the wall, slumping down as he took me in, eyed over my state and licked his lips. With a smiled, I released his head, twisted that tie just a little and reached for the angel blade beside my leg. Wrapping small fingers around it tightly, I slowly leaned down and kissed him, just a soft gentle kiss that sent a surge of power through me. "Thank you, Angel."

And I jabbed the tip of the blade up through his ribs, straight into his heart. He looked at me, wide-eyed and scared as the spark ran through him. He drew in one last breath, his lips moving as if he were a fish out of water searching for words before he went limp against the tie.

With a breath I stood on shaking knees, pulled the blade from the spot it was lodged in and looked over the man that lay there. I moved as fast as I could, suddenly feeling the extent of my injuries, the wild ride with the angel and the fact that I was nowhere near healed enough to have done that, struggling to collect my things, and get dressed, which pulling on my boot seemed to take the most amount of effort.

Still feeling him between my legs, I glanced over one more time at the still body before I closed the door to the little motel room. I expected a flash of bright light, but there wasn't any, I thought for sure there would be some sort of loop, that I would be back in the same spot that I had been before but then I remembered the signs. It had only been four days.

The sun was blinding, and I nearly doubled over from the pain of the headache it caused, but when I looked around and focused, I only saw one car in the parking lot, my own. A pristine condition 1970 Olds Cutlass 442, dark blue in color, sat right where I had left her, guarding my bedroom door.

Smiling, I settled behind her wheel, cranked the engine over and drove towards the only place I had ever been safe. The bunker in Lebanon, Kansas.

I'm not sure I ever really knew where I was, but I knew it wasn't Wichita, and after a week of being totally exhausted, driving when I could, stopping more often because I couldn't keep my eyes open, or I needed food, I finally arrived. Parking outside the entrance, I slowly slid out, tried to stretch, but felt the pull of the stitches before I could really get a good one in.

The area was quiet. When the door squeaked open, I was greeted only with silence and I stopped at the landing, looking over the map table before I placed the bag down, slipping the key into the front pocket. Curiosity got the best of me and I made my wait down the iron stairway, setting down softly on the linoleum floor. One sound would have echoed off this place forever which was odd because the buzz of the generators was gone.

It looked the same as I walked through, Sam's research was everywhere, papers gathered on the main hall tables, books piled up in his room, his bed made, but not really completely, as if he had just slipped out to use the bathroom. Dean's room was as it had always been when he wasn't in it, perfect bed, clean counters, organized weapons and none of them were missing. Even the kitchen looked spotless and unused.

After making the rounds to the armory, the electrical room, even the shooting range, I found myself walking up the set of steps towards the garage. Light automatically came on, four sets one right after another, illuminating the large open space, with bays filled with old cars and a few motorcycles. The shiny black and chrome Impala even graced her space among the rest, but it was the darkened corner that caught my attention.

Slowly, I slipped past Baby, my fingers running along her edges, until I stopped by the edge of the trunk and looked over the pile of metal that was once a dark blue Cutlass. My heart raced, thumping against my chest as I stared and shook my head in confusion.

I could feel the breath in me become harder, and with that the pain began to seep into my bones. My arms and legs felt heavy, the sounds that echoed in my ears were muffled and underwater, and I was on my knees before I could make myself sturdy enough to stand.

My vision waved and flashed and suddenly I was staring up at Sam, pieces of an argument invaded my senses, the words were broken but I could make out the anger in our voices.

Hunt, don't hunt, that was part of it, afraid for me. Stay or go, it didn't matter, but it did. I love you, Sam, my voice invaded, I love Dean too, no, not just too, not just in a family way. I was in love with them both. I needed to go, I needed to hunt alone, I needed to go, had to go…

The lights flashed from the side, me behind the wheel, the rain cascading down in the dark of night. Coming at me, no, coming from beside me, speeding, racing. The world was spinning, never stopping, the pain was overpowering, the fight was going out, the lights were leaving.

The final descent into darkness stretched around me, it took everything, made it cold, made it hollow and alone and I was in hell.

Cold concrete under fingers.

Blackness, all I can see is blackness.

Air, I needed air.

Where was I? I can't breath.

A light, a light is coming in, I can make out the shape of my boot.

Air. Air.

Ice, the walls are like ice and my fingers, I can't feel my fingers, so cold, so cold against the concrete.

Arms above my head, bracing my elbows, pull back on my knees and kick.

KICK!

Knees only go up so high, only so much force. Only half of what I can do, not strong enough.

Eyes water, breath. Need to breathe, only enough for one word. One word.

"Cas."

I found my way only to be locked inside a concrete coffin, just my damn luck. My eyes drift shut, closing as I huffed small breaths of the remaining air. The descent into darkness was there, right there and all I had to do was stop breathing.

The crack that echoed through the building almost sounded like the entire thing had shifted, and my eyes flew open to look down at the slits by my feet. Crackles of noise seemed to surround me as the spiderwebs of glowing light formed in the concrete, and I tried not to scream, but there was nothing I could do, the light at one end wasn't strong enough to keep the darkness at bay, not enough to keep me from falling as it took over my vision.

The air was cold and I couldn't help the shiver that flowed through me, but the light was bright enough to pull me up and out of the blackness. I opened my eyes, the best I could, only to find myself staring into bright blue orbs, ones that I had left dead and bleeding in a motel room somewhere in the world a week ago. His arms, his warmth was wrapped around me and for a moment, my consciousness swayed.

"Hey, Cas," I mumbled out, feeling the dryness of my throat.

"Hello, little hunter." He said softly, lifting his fingers to press against my forehead. Instantly, he erased all of the pain.

"CAS!" Dean's voice echoed off the walls of the mausoleum, and I heard the thunderous approach of two sets of boots.

"Cas?" Sam's questioning repeat of his name seemed closer and I picked up my head enough to watched the two of them come around the corner.

Both men stopped, breathing heavy as they looked down at me, but all I could see for a moment was the monsters they had been. I sighed, swallowed back the bile that rose in my throat, the terror of the nightmares that I had experienced and waited, just waited, taking in the sight of them expecting the black to go across their eyes.

Dean's hands were suddenly on my cheeks, warm and inviting and his lips were on mine before I could take another breath, gentle, with no force behind them and only love. The shock in his eyes was priceless, but it was trumped by Sam's need to rip me from Cas' arms and hold me to him as his mouth captured mine.

Love flowed from them both as hands moved in my hair and bodies wrapped around me.

I was home.

Cas handed me a hot cup of tea as I sat tucked in the corner of the couch, a blanket wrapped around me. I had been able to change into my normal clothes, showered off the feeling of being asleep forever and still couldn't get warm enough to get the shivers out of my skin. Sam sat on the small chair across from me as I stared at the cup and Dean seemed to pace behind him, his arms crossed, waiting for something, but I was waiting for them to strike.

Cas finally sat down on the couch at my feet, folded his hands together and looked up at me with a furrowed brow.

"What happened?" was all I questioned.

"You died." Dean said stoically and I whipped around to look at him.

"Obviously, otherwise that was a really cruel prank sticking me in a concrete coffin." I snapped before looking back at Cas. "How did I die?"

"The night that you and Sam argued, your car was totalled by a Mack Truck that ran a stop sign," the angel whispered, and my eyes went to Sam, watched the hurt and the pain fill him as he looked down at his hands. "They did everything they could at the hospital," he continued but my eyes were locked on the younger brother, "it took them three days to get you stable, and Sam was the first one at the hospital."

 _It had been three days since Sam made the phone call, checking in, but I never got back to him. It wasn't even really contact, more like a missed call._

My lips trembled as I took a breath and nodded for Cas to continue as he placed his hand on my knee.

"Four days after that, you were pronounced brain dead, due to the lack higher brain functions, there was nothing else they could do," he spoke softly and my eyes went up to Dean.

" _You're not going to die, Ray," Dean snapped but I could hear the concern in his voice. "Stop being so dramatic." But there was another time that his voice rang out. "What the actual Fuck? RAY!"_

"Only your basic functions were working, within a week, you were gone."

Everything happened a week after, everything seemed to spiral down hill after that I shook my head, looked over the three of them and then landed my glare on Cas.

"You didn't burn me." I stated and shook his hand off, "why didn't you burn me?"

"We need to keep you safe," Dean spoke up, "we need a way to get you out."

"Out? Out of where? Poughkeepsie? You stuffed me in a box!" I growled and watched him.

"Out of hell," Sam replied.

"Hell?" it was just a whisper of a word, "I was in hell?"

"For ten years, twenty-six days and twelve hours." Cas answered.

"Wonderful, let me just put that in my "places I never want to go back to" book," I nodded and pushed him off, standing up from the couch as I steaded myself on wobbly legs. I ran a hand though my hair but let it drop as I met Dean's eyes. "Why?"

"The hunt you were on, it wasn't a vamp nest," Dean spoke up, "it was a brothel, run by demons, very nasty, nasty demons, and they wanted you something awful."

"So what? You pulled me out?" I turned to look at Cas but the angel just shook his head. "How am I here then?"

"A demon, named Reyes." Sam added his own voice to this story, "we struck a bargain with her, she would go in and try to get you out. They know Cas, from when he got me, when he pulled Dean out. And you were guarded, they weren't just going to let anyone in, not without a fight."

"So you let a demon try to help me escape from demons?" I shook my head, licked my lips and tried to hide the smile, before I huffed out, "fucking perfect!"

"Ray," Dean said softly, "we knew you were going down from the moment you started to fade, and we tried to stop it, we did, but there was no way to get in, you were too closed off."

"I got home, I escaped from hell, from some Freaky Friday repeat of my life over the course of two weeks to find out that _I_ was the one closed off. Seriously?" I glared at him, my anger mounting, my need to punch something growing and I clenched my fists. "You have been emotionally closed off from the moment we met, Dean Winchester, so don't you think that knowing I was fading or giving a fuck now is going to change anything."

"It does change things," he whispered, his voice even as he came to a stop but didn't approach. "It changes everything, you being here, breathing, screaming, hell, the fact that you're glaring at me and all I can think about is how beautiful you are changes everything."

"What?" I was stunned, but not into silence, more like into a rage.

"I love you!" he let those words slide out like they meant nothing. "From the moment you tossed yourself through a window, thinking you were all badass, I loved you, and not a moment goes by that doesn't make me more sorry for not telling you sooner."

I felt my chest compress, like the broken ribs were still there, as if I was still trying to breath, and I looked at Sam, my eyes filled with tears but they were nothing but angry, especially when all I saw was the face of the man who had hurt me. He just kinda opened his hands and drew his lips tight.

"That's it?" I questioned calmly, "that's all you got?"

"Ray," he started, drew in a breath, and stood, "I'm sorry, I said some stupid things, I did some stupid things that I will always regret." He paused, and the next sentence was said as if it meant anything, "you're in love with my brother."

"I'm in love with you too, you ass!" I seethed and shook my head. "If you had listened to me that night, Sam, just heard me out, you would have known. I love you too, you were first, you would always be first, but I couldn't love Dean any less just because you wanted me too. So what, you just let me descend into the darkness, let hell run me for a month and a half?"

"I don't…" he stumbled but didn't move any closer and I shook my head. "I tried, Ray, I searched every book, every journal I could find. Eventually, we tracked down Reyes, she was the only way to get to you, the only way I could imagine being able to get to you. None of us could follow you down, it was too far, you were… you were gone, and by the time she found you." Sam's gaze fell to the floor. "They used us, they used me to get you to break, my love for you, Ray, they tried to break you with it. I don't know what to do with that."

"You don't do anything, Sam," I replied and took a breath. With one last look at the three men in the room, I breathed in as deep as I could and walked away.

*****  
Cas knocked on the door as I sat to the edge of the bed, twirling the minture angel blade in my hand, feeling him enter the room without even looking up and he stood there, at the footboard, probably with his hands in his pockets.

"I followed you," he said softly, "I followed you as far down as I could. I watched your descent, and then I was pulled back, I had nothing to hold onto, and I let you down, I let you go."

I smiled as I nodded, my elbows on my knees and I blinked away the tears. "Do you know what I did the moment I saw you, because, you know, they used you too," I paused, if only to stop the laughter, "I fucked you." I nodded to myself as I let this admission out, "I screwed you until you came and then I stabbed you."

"That's… understandable." he mumbled, a little confused.

"No, Cas, it's really not." I answered, standing up as I turned to him. "You're my best friend and I beat you to a bloody pulp, broke your arm, put a blade through the other and then tormented you until you were nothing but a wreck under me, how is that understandable?"

"You were…"

"If you say, _in hell_ , I will rip your wings off." I watched as his lips drew thin. "Go away," I said softly, tears flowing from my eyes, "I did some things there, Cas, wanted _some_ things that no one should want, brutal, nasty, unforgivable things, I wanted them all, but what I did to you… please just go away."

"I won't," he sighed and stepped closer, the only one of the three that made the attempt. "I won't go away this time, I won't let you go, not again."

"I hurt," I breathed out through trembling lips, "every broken rib, every stitch, I still feel them, Cas, and I hurt." I closed my eyes as my whole body shook. "I don't want to hurt anymore."

His arms were wrapped around me in less time than it took me to breath out the last word. That warm solid body was pulling mine in, holding me tight and not letting go as the sobs shuddered through me. I trembled against his touch, ached for him to hold me tighter, needed him to get rid of the cold.

All I wanted was the darkness.


	4. Final Descent

Descent chapter 4

When I woke up, there was no bright light, there wasn't any pain. I wasn't scrambling for the phone to call my saviors, I wasn't fading in and out of consciousness. I didn't have a large gash to sew up. No, I was wrapped in a blanket of warmth for the first time in God only knows how long, with arms and legs surrounding me, the smell of sunshine in my nose, the feeling of a body wrapped up behind me and the security that I wasn't alone.

Slowly, I pulled from him, sure that I would wake him, but then I remembered that angels didn't sleep. They didn't cuddle either but this one was good at it. Turning on the bed, I looked down at the eyes that followed my every move, searching my face for something and with a small smile, I reached over and touched his cheek.

Cas followed my fingers and let his lids droop shut upon the light touch, a breath escaping his lips and I blinked away the image of him, moving beneath me, trapped, filling me, and quickly moved away.

I grabbed a pair of jeans and slipped them on as I heard the bed move behind me, took a moment to gather my thoughts and turned. He was up, sitting on the edge that I had been the night before and he knotted his fingers together as his brow raised, waiting on something from me.

"You were having nightmares," he stated matter-of-factly and I could only nod. "Were they of…"

"You? Yes, and the boys," I clenched my jaw, shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest, hugging myself tightly. "I don't know how to lock it away, Cas, what I did to you, what they did to me, I don't know how to fight it down."

"Maybe you're not meant to," he whispered, "maybe this makes you stronger."

"I'm about as strong as I'd like to be, thank you." I huffed, turned and quickly exited the room.

I couldn't be near the angel anymore, not with the urges I had, the ones that made me want him again. I could almost hear the angel sigh as I turned and made my way down the halls. The bunker wasn't new to me, I knew every inch and when I finally came to a stop, it was in front of Dean's open door.

It wasn't unusual to find it slightly ajar but this was pushed open enough that I could see his bed, see him lying in the middle of it, ankles crossed, arms over his chest like he was just waiting for something or someone to come in, but his headphones had popped off sometime ago and his lips were slightly parted.

And for everything I hated about what happened with him, for every memory of that demon that shook me to the core, I loved this one more. Taking in a breath, I swallowed and moved in, making my way towards the dresser, quiet enough that I could hop up and sit, just staring over his form, listening to the even breathing of his body.

I didn't know how long I rested there, my back to the wall, my eyes going over his body, the way his legs flexed in the black boxer briefs, the sexy way they tented from his "morning wood", something that made me just want to crawl over him and make him moan, but I stayed, I made my body still. He had a tee-shirt on, but it had inched up, showing me the light brown hair that lined up his navel, disappearing under the elastic waist of his shorts, and I had to force my heart to stop racing.

"Watching someone sleep is creepy," his deep voice rumbled out, which brought my gaze straight up to the green orbs that were looking at me from under half-laden lashes. "Watching someone with that look on your face is downright dangerous." And I quickly looked away, "if I didn't know what you went through, I'd ask you to come here so I could touch you, but I'm not going to do that, not yet."

"Dean," I warned and shook my head, "you don't know what they did, you wouldn't want to touch me after that."

His legs swung quickly off the side of the bed, and before I could blink he was standing between my legs, hands fisted, knuckles pressing on the wood as he leaned into me, lips a breath away from mine as I shrank back as far as I could.

"Nothing you could do, nothing anyone did to you, would make me not want to touch you." he growled and that sent a shiver straight down my spine, heating up where he was pressed, making me wet against his pressure and his eyes slowly ventured down before coming up to stare into mine. "I'm not going to hurt you. I would never hurt you, you know that."

"I thought I did," I whimpered and raised a hand to his chest, slowly pushing, wanting nothing but for him to move, and he lifted his head, straightened his body and looked down at me with sorrowed eyes. "I thought I knew a lot of things, Dean, but I don't anymore. I loved you, I love you still but things need time to heal, if they ever do."

"I know," he sighed and stepped back, giving me room to run. "I've been to hell too, remember, and it wasn't a picnic, or a walk in the park, it was just death and pain and destruction, and one day, you'll tell me what happened there, and I'll help you through it." His eyes narrowed at me as he licked his lips. "I'm not going to lose you again, and I'm not going to let you fall alone."

"You might, when you find out." I whispered, hopping down. I heard him exhale as I headed towards the door, but he didn't move, he didn't follow and I glanced at him as I held the solid wood in my hands, "I'm sorry Dean."

"Yeah," he whispered, and only his eyes came up, showing me the pain in them, "me too."

Sam was awake when I passed by his room, sitting at his desk with papers in his hands as he shuffled through them all, getting irritated pretty fast by the way he moved them around. He slammed them down on the desk, sat back in the chair and rubbed his forehead as he rested his elbow on the arm. Typical Sam move, but that was when he glanced over and cleared his throat, lowering his arm so that his fingers slipped together.

"Hey, Ray," he said softly, spinning the chair so he could see me better, but that was when I stepped in and pressed my back against the wall, just inside the doorway. "Did you sleep?"

"Ah, yeah, Cas kinda knocked me out," I replied and looked down at his bare feet, the way his toes curled on the rug below the desk, his jeans hugging his calves enough to give me a small peek at his ankles before I traveled up to his thighs. His gray V-neck shirt was tight enough to see the muscles flex underneath and I rolled my neck at the thought of him.

 _His lips branding me as he kissed, the words that slipped from his his hand slid from my back to wrap around my throat, breath coming quickly into my ear. "You're going to stop teasing me and give me what I want."_

I shivered at the sound of them, of what came next and I watched as he slowly stood, towering over me by way too many inches. I saw concern sweep over his features and land right in those eyes, but I pressed my back to the wall, ramrod straight which stopped his movement. His hand came up slowly and the look of fear filled his eyes.

"I'm not going to hurt you," and I stifled a laugh, "Ray, whatever you went through down there, whatever shit they pulled, that wasn't me."

"Oh, Sam, it was you," I managed to whisper, "looking into your eyes right now, everything about that was you, just not the controlled part of you, not the one standing here, but we all have it in us, the ability to forget our humanity and go after what we want."

"Is that what I did to you? Went after you?" he swallowed hard, turning a shade of green as he thought about it, "did I take you?" I didn't answer him, I just watched his movements, the way he shifted uneasily in his spot. "Did I… did I force you?"

"In a way," I replied, inhaling just a bit, bringing in the scent of his cologne, "but in a very dark and stupid way, I wanted it too, I didn't fight it the way I should have."

"I would never do anything like that, Ray!" He was defending himself, getting angry at the way hell had gone for me, "I would never…"

"Sam, it's done," I stopped his rambling as I pushed away from the wall, moved up to him, and his lips parted as he looked down at me. "It's over, whatever it was, and I don't blame you… I don't," pausing to catch whatever the thoughts were that raced through my head, I tilted my head just a little and blew out that breath with the words that I needed to say, "I love you."

His arms were wrapped around me, strong arms that fought to keep the monsters out, but I could only lay my cheek against his chest, where my head touched just below his heart and feel the pressure of his lips on my hair. I let my arms come up, feel something solid as I did my best to hold onto him. This was Sam, my Sam, the one that loved me, wanting nothing from me but that love back and I tried everything to let him take that darkness away from me, but it wasn't happening. He couldn't save me.

I moved from his arms as quickly as I could before ducking down the hall and into the closest bathroom, locking the deadbolt as I did so. I blinked away the tears, the emotion and slowly moved towards the sink. My body had been screaming at me to do something about my bladder but I had been ignoring it, until now. Now was when the feeling of being overfull took charge and I had no choice.

With a sigh, I finished what I had to do, turned to the sink and started the water, waiting for it to warm but, but as I did, i stared at myself in the mirror, reached out my hands and began to wash with the sickly sweet smell of the vanilla hand soap. My heart thumped as I flashed back to the bathroom, to the four days that the boys did almost everything for me, to the way Dean walked me to the tub, the way Sam had taken care of my wound, to the way the shower felt before that blackness forced me away from the younger brother.

Drying off, my gaze went down my reflection, traveling down the length of the tank before I grabbed the end and yanked it up my left side. There wasn't a scar there, not one that I could make out, but I had seen it there, watched it bleed forever, saw it sewn up and reopened and I ran my fingers along where it should have been, flinching at the warmth of my fingers on the coolness of my stomach.

It was real, it was all real. Cas had healed my injuries when I woke, leaving no trace of how I had died, of what my body looked like after I left that hospital room. No there was no autopsy, they knew what I had passed away from, but there were still bruises on my gray skin, still that stitched and unhealed wound on my side, dark circles under my eyes, purple tissue on my body. Everything that I had gone through was gone, except what remained in my head. Something worse than the death I had been through.

I closed my eyes tightly, clenched my fists as I breathed through the fury that settled in my veins and tried with everything to calm down, but it was Dean's hands on my wrists, locking my them against the wall as his body thrust into me from behind that made the blood boil. Sam's hand pressing down on my back, the feeling of the table underneath me that only fueled the rage and I swung.

I swung because I couldn't then, I was helpless and needy. I swung because I gave into the darkness and as much as I begged and pleaded, I couldn't remember if I begged for more or pleaded for them to stop. I swung and felt my hand connect with the glass, the sound of it shattering into a million pieces, the same way my heart was, that my mind had tattered, that my body came undone under them, on top of them and slowly, the rage waned, and I opened my eyes.

Instead of webbed glass and a million small reflections of myself, I was greeted by one solid image, a dark, twisted side of myself that only I had ever known when I was alone and hunting. It was the secret side of me that I kept under lock and keep, that I never showed the boys, that I pushed down until I was alone, it was a darkness that I only descended into when there was nothing between me and salvation except the monster in the middle.

I had heard it break, knew there was nothing else to fear and slowly, my reflection smiled.

I popped the top of the beer bottle, my eyes not really seeing anything as I placed it beside my own wine cooler. Beer was gross, but I knew Dean would appreciate it, and I owed him an apology for the way I had walked out on him earlier that day. I felt little, well less than I had before. There was no nervous energy pulsing through me, no need to fear anything. I had finally settled in, come to terms and took a breath and then a beer, and headed towards Dean's room.

He was sitting at his desk, cleaning the ornate slide of his 1911 as I tapped on the open door with the top of the amber bottle. He looked up at me, a inquisitive look in his eyes, but he relaxed when I held out the long neck to him.

"I come bearing peace offerings." I smiled and watched as he sat back, put the piece down and reached out as I moved in to sit on his bed. Swirling the chair around, while I criss-crossed my legs, on the brown blanket, he looked me over, took a long gulp from the bottle and waited. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" He questioned, his lips still a breath away from the glass, "You've literally been to hell and back, save your apologizes for when you do something stupid."

"I can't guarantee that I won't be saying it sooner than later I guess." I smiled and sipped on my own. "I shouldn't have come in when I did, I was fucked up this morning, and… I probably should have left before you woke up."

"No," he said softly, but that made me think of the way he was sitting and instantly I was there in the room, hands cuffed above my head and I shook the darkness from me as worry crossed his face, "I mean, no, I'm glad you came in. You don't know how amazing it was to wake up and see you there."

"Must have been pretty weird," I smiled and watched him nod.

"Well, you would think with everything Sammy and I have been through, weird would be normal by now, but you don't get used to seeing your dead girlfriends sitting on your dresser, it just doesn't happen that way." I smiled at his words as his eyes shot up from the beer in his hand to stare at me, his expression fading before he let the smile on my lips relax him, "I didn't mean to assume."

"What? That i was your girlfriend?" I giggled, okay maybe not giggled but I watched his body shift as he stood and closed the door, looking at me before the latch took. "It's okay, you can close it."

"You're sure?" he checked again and waited for me to nod. I flinched as the small sound of the latch clicking in place caused my chest to tighten, but he didn't see it. With a breath, he turned, swallowed down the rest of the beer and placed the empty bottle on the desk before turning to me, crossing the two steps to the bed and slowly, he sat down. "While you were gone, I locked the door in here more times than I could count, I locked Sam out, locked Cas out, hell, I think I locked me out because I heard what you said to Sam, about loving me and I realized that I was stupid. Just one more irritating asshole, for not telling you that I loved you sooner, for not seeing it sooner. I mean, you did things to me, do them still, but I thought it was because you were just getting on my nerves, that you were trying to piss me off, I didn't' realized that I was trying to protect you, that I was falling in love with you." he paused for a second, his eyes casting down on mine as I set my cooler on the end table and crawled over him, straddling his lap. He took a breath as he placed his hands on my hips and his forehead against mine. "I didn't want to admit that I was terrified every time you left us to hunt alone, I didn't want to say…"

"I need you," I whispered softly and tilted up to kiss him softly. Dean's fingers gripped harder, but he didn't move them, this was my deal and he was letting me have control. They were just little kisses, softly brushes, quick passes as my hands trailed up his chest and over his shoulders until I was able to run my fingers through his hair.

I smiled as I reached down and took his wrist, letting the feel of him let loose under me take over and I slid it from where he sat to my stomach, then up to where I held it against my breast. Dean moaned into my kisses, his fingers giving soft caresses as the one on my hip moved to cup my ass.

"I'm not going to break," I sighed into his mouth and with that, he began to move. From my ass, his fingers fumbled to get under my shirt, the one that had been gently thumbing my nipple through my shirt was now up along the side of my neck, his fingers lacing in my hair and I pressed against his chest.

Clothing seemed to be less of a barrier than I thought it would be since the tank was pulled over my head faster than I could blink and I yanked at his tee while his mouth moved to plant nips and kisses along my neck. His little hums had become my lifetline, tethering me to the man who bucked his hips up, looking for some sort of relief from the growing erection stuck in the hard confines of his jeans.

Dean turned me, placed me down on the bed, my legs wrapped around his waist as he pulled off his shirt, giving me access to the tan, tone skin underneath and I pulled him back down to places bruising kisses on his lips.

He was warm, alive and making me moan, his fingers cascaded down my breast, alternating between gentle and pinching as he captured my nipple between them, but it was when he went for the button on the jeans that he paused.

"Tell me no," he whispered as if he were begging me to, but I just held his gaze as he waited, "tell me no and I will stop at any point, Ray, I swear it."

"Yes," was all I answered and arched up to kiss him once more. There was no ceremony to his moves, no sweet and tender, but all need. Not that he was hard and rough, but in a breath the jeans on both of us were gone and I could feel the hard length of him between my legs, using my own slick to create the friction he wanted and he whimpered against my lips. "Dean."

His name was just a sigh before he slipped in, no prep needed because I wanted him so badly that I just didn't want to wait. He stilled, fully sheathed within me, waiting for me to adjust, waiting for himself to catch his breath and with a shuddered inhale, he moved.

Dean was like a maestro, controlling the ebb and flow, the crescendo and the diminuendo of our love making, but there was more to it than the need to have him close as his body provided everything I needed and I felt the trembles in every muscle. I tossed my head back, closed my eyes and curled my toes as every nerve in my body sang, and I felt him swell, but his rhythm faltered and all I could do was smile.

Looking up, eyes wide now, I felt him slow until he stilled within me. Dean rolled to the side of the bed, his body spent without the pleasure of an orgasm and I watched him try to blink away the confusion.

"What the hell, Ray," he whispered and those eyes faltered in their stare as his lids began to droop. I moved onto my knees, fingers reaching out for that rock-hard cock, slick with my need and slowly I started to stroke him. "What did you do?"

"I gave you a beer," I whispered against his lips, still pumping him even as his consciousness faded, still getting the small moans from him as he fought against the sleep. "But, I might have laced it with something."

"What?" he growled, but it came out like more of a mumble, and his hips bucked up into my hand, his cock swelling. I licked my lips as I watched his balls tighten up against him. Not long now. "Why the fuck would you do that?"

"Call it a little insurance policy," I sighed and kissed him, his lips parted accepting what I offered even as his arm fell away from his face, too heavy to hold up. "Dean, you'll be alright."

"Fuck you, Ray, what…" But just as he was about to scream out, he moaned instead, ropes of come shooting over his stomach as I smiled and watched his eye screw tightly shut, his body racked with convulsions as the orgasm swept through him. Tears streamed down from closed eyes as he fought to open them once he was spent. "I love… you… Ray."

I leaned down, placed my lips against his ear and whispered, hearing a choking sob escape him just once before I backed away. With a satisfied breath, I sat back and those eyes closed slowly as he fell into unconsciousness. Taking a deep breath, I stood from the bed, picked up his shirt and wiped my hand before I shuffled back into the jeans and shirt and slowly walked towards the door.

One last glance at Dean and I turned off the light, closing the door behind me.

Sam stood by the library table, his nose in a book, but he was frustrated, which in my case, helped me a lot. Sipping on a cup of coffee, I pulled the collar of the button down a little bit higher, but since there wasn't anything on under it, there was no sense, since it seemed to be slipping down off my shoulders. Jeans had been replaced by yoga pants and my hair was pulled up into a ponytail.

He looked up, only a quick glance as I leaned on the table, but when his eyes ran over what I was wearing, his shirt by the way, he cleared his throat and stood straight. I moved over to him, set the coffee cup down on the only clear spot that I could find and scooted up to sit next to it. He placed the papers down softly, licked his lips and looked down at the mess around him.

"You okay, Ray?" he questioned, looking over at me but not turning towards me at all, his hair curtaining his eyes as he clenched his teeth, making his glance just a bit more sultry.

"I was wrong." I sighed and looked down at my hands, fiddling with them on my lap but I could hear him take in a breath before I looked up at him. "I was wrong about you, about that place, about how you were to me when I was there. That wasn't you, that could never be you, but I was afraid. Really afraid, because more than anything, I want you, and i thought that was the only way I was going to get you."

He fought with his words, trying to find just the right ones to say but instead of saying anything, he moved, slipped between my legs, placed those hands on my face and tilted my head back so that I could do nothing but look at him, but I wasn't afraid. He leaned down and softly pressed a kiss against my lips, wetting them with his soft ones as his tongue slid across.

I sighed against the feeling and moved my hands to grab ahold of his waist, shifting over to get to his belt as his kiss deepened. I didn't need the formalities, I just wanted the man, and he complied as he pressed his hips forward, giving invitation for me to take what I wanted. One tug, one snap and a zipper and I had my hand full of his thick cock. Sam growled as I slipped my fingers up over the top of him, flicking at the slit, bringing a slight moan from him as his thighs pushed mine wider.

"What do you want, Ray?" he whispered as I stroked him, his forehead against mine, "do you want me?"

"More than anything, Sam." I breathed into him and felt his kiss once more. In a flurried rush of movement, he pushed my pants down, picking me up from the table to let them drop to the floor.

"Wrap your legs around me," he pleaded as he stood, holding me with one arm tucked under my ass. I wrapped my arms around his neck as my legs rested high on his hips. Taking his free hand, he adjusted himself under me, as he paused, waiting for me. He stumbled with the words, even as his physical strength held me there. "You're going to have to…"

It was all I needed to shift and bring him in, my core clenching around him as I dropped lower, impaling down on him slowly and he sucked in a breath. His intent was to hold me up, let gravity do what it needed to but when I kissed him, all the breath seemed to leave his body and he reached back, blindly looking for a chair as he bent his knees.

The one he found was pressed back against the table, wide enough for him to sit down on, short enough to the ground for me to get my footing on the bars that helped support it and I backed away to take in his face as I moved, slowly creating a rhythm of short thrusts, bringing him in and slipping him out, just to the head before digging my nails in to do it again.

Sam clenched his teeth, his eyes going from tightly shut to blown wide open and I moved, his hands wrapping around my body, under the curve of my ass, gliding with me as I leaned down and sucked on his exposed neck, pulling a growl from deep in his chest. I rode him like he was the last man on earth, the only time I would ever get to feel him so deep and I could feel him start to buck as his end drew closer.

Heat began at the base of my spine, traveling up between my shoulders and down to where he lay pressed deep inside. My skin tingled, the stars behind my lids were explosive as I shouted out his name, unsure of where I was except wrapped in his arms, but as my vision cleared, as I opened them to watch the ecstasy on his face, I slowly reached behind him and picked up that which I had set down next to my cup.

"Come for me, Sam," I whispered, pressing up against his chest as I moved one hand close to the other, popping the top of the small item, and I lay my mouth against his ear. "I want to feel you come undone, I wanna feel you inside me."

He clenched his teeth again, his head thrown back as suddenly his lips parted and his hands grasped my hips, fingers digging deep as he stilled for just a moment before grunting through the pleasure. Waves shivered through me, my heart thumped against my ribs and just as he closed his eyes and moved to press his temple against mine, I jabbed the needle into the meat of his arm.

Sam yelped, startled by the pain, but his arms instantly fell by his side, as I backed away and looked at his wild eyes. His lips played with my name, not sure how to form it before it came out as a sigh. "Ray?"

"I love you, Sam," I whispered, dropping the syringe as my fingers came up to caress his cheek, licked my lips and then kissed him softly. "I need you to remember that," I drew a deep breath before bringing my mouth back to his ear, whispered soft words to him as his eyes fluttered and closed. I backed away and inhaled his scent while I looked over his face. "I'm sorry."

"Rayna," he sighed, almost inaudible to anyone but me, and I kissed him one last time before sliding off his body.

Gazing over Sam as he slumped in the chair, secure enough so that he wouldn't fall, I grabbed a book and placed it over his cock, giving him some little bit of privacy. No way I would want be found with my pants down but hey, it was what it was.

Yanking mine up off the floor, I slipped them back on, grabbed my shirt and buttoned it once more before heading into the bedroom. There was one last thing I had to do. One small little detail that I couldn't leave well enough alone.

I paced the kitchen, fingers tented over my nose, thinking long and hard. This wasn't going to be as easy as I thought, not in the very least. With a aggravated sigh, I snatched the knife off the counter, and made my way down the hall, past Dean's room to the one at the very end.

He wouldn't have been in here anyway, would have never stayed, there was too much at stake, too many people looking for me, too many monster. Nope, I expected it to be empty and it was. With my eyes closed, I gave myself one last look around before I placed the blade against my palm, sliced down through the center of it and smiled.

Leaning against the wall, closest to the desk, I put one hand leisurely on top of my bent knee. God, could it really be this hard? UGH! Clearing my throat, I checked my voice, felt the tears start to drop and took in a shuddered breath.

"Cas!" I called out, my voice cracking, "Cas, I need you, I did something. I did something very bad." Nope, nothing. Fucking Hell, really! Coughing, I started again. "Cas… the boys… I think… Castiel!"

This time there was a whoosh of feathers and he was standing in the room with me, his eyes full of confusion as he looked down, a mess of worry crossed his features and he suddenly moved from the room.

I heard his boots step into Dean's room, heard his voice try to stir the man but there was nothing, and then out he went to the library, where he found Sam, and that was about the time that I smiled. He came barreling back in and found me looking up. A smirk across my face in the dimly lit room. The light beside the door was the only one on, and suddenly I had a face full of angel, and the tip of an angel blade pressed against my throat.

"What did you do?" he questioned, anger in the voice of an angel was awful sexy, but I didn't answer him. "Rayna, what did you do to Sam and Dean?"

"I saved them," I whispered, not threatened by his posture, but glanced down at the angle of the blade as I leaned forward, pressing it into my neck. "I saved them from me."

"Why?" He growled, "why would they need saving from you. You're a hunter, they love you."

"Because, Cas," was my only answer. I had nothing else to say about it, and I shrugged. Honestly, what could you say to that?

"One last time, Ray, what did you do?"

I blinked, one long drawn out blink as my hand slowly came up and wrapped around the sharp edges of the blade, just above the hilt where his lay, and the smile crept up my face, until all I could feel was the edges of my lips tugging. Cas shifted back but didn't let go of the blade as my blood began to drip down it.

Cas struggled to understand. "What happened to you?"

"I got off the rack!" I replied, an edge in my voice that made his eyes go wide as I opened my palm and slammed the bloody whole of it against the angel banishing sigil that I painted there.

A bright flash of light blinded me for just a moment before I looked up and he was gone, angel blade still him my bloody hand. With a _hmmph_ , I pushed up, grabbed the gauze wrap that I had brought into the room and wrapped both of my hands with it. Heading out to the kitchen, I grabbed the duffle from the table and slung it over my shoulder as I moved towards the library.

Standing by the table, looking over the still sleeping form of Sam, I twirled the blade in one hand, grabbed it by the hilt and slammed it down in the center of the wood, right between the initials that they had carved there. Taking stock of everything in the room, I snatched the leather jacket from the hook and headed up the flight of iron stairs, with one last look around the bunker, I pushed it open and disappeared into the night, hearing it creek before it slammed shut, the noise echoing through the silent bunker.

 _I love you,"_ the last bit of her humanity seeped through as she pressed her lips against their ears, giving each of them every ounce of what was left that had once made her human. _Let me go, don't follow me, I'm begging you. If you do, I can't promise that I won't kill you, and I can't live knowing that I hurt you, but please know, through all of this, everything we've been through… I love you._


End file.
